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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29272185">what's missing is found (our souls can exhale now)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobsicles/pseuds/sobsicles'>sobsicles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cas should not even be here, Case Fic, Claire is missing, Dean Winchester and Kaia Nieves Friendship Supremacy, Dean is doing his best, Dean is good with kids, Dean's journey of self-discovery is pretty bleak this time, Dean's not really doing too hot honestly, Just a small scene of it, Kaia and Dean bonding over being deeply in love with someone, Kaia being iconic, Kissing, Love Confessions Again!, M/M, References to John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Reunions, Sam and Eileen are involved in this as well, Smoking Marijuana, Sort Of, a demon being a very evil asshole but not as bad as it could be, because I say so, blood mention, both for recreational and medicinal purposes, but he is a natural rebel so of course he is, but they get along really well, can never get enough of those, demon (gender neutral), except Kaia isn't a kid at all, he does it when it hurts the most, oh yeah, past references to depression, the five stages of grief but backwards because Dean Winchester has style</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:34:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>27,403</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29272185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobsicles/pseuds/sobsicles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.</p><p>~~~</p><p>"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?" </p><p>"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have." </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1078</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>mp's favs, supernatural fics i think about six times a week</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>what's missing is found (our souls can exhale now)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I just really wanted Kaia and Dean to be friends, okay? Sue me. </p><p>Brief warnings again for Dean referencing (thinking about) his past depression and some comfortableness with being unalived (which he knows isn't good, because we ignore the finale around these parts). Also, Kaia and Dean get high once—it's a small scene, and Kaia uses it to help her not dreamwalk, so sort of medicinal. </p><p>Anyway, enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets the call on a dull Friday morning, and Miracle has to paw at his face to get him to wake up when his phone rings. At first, he turns over and ignores it entirely, just goes right back to sleep. Of course, Miracle is obviously upset about this, but Dean has had enough of his shit. The fucker had laid up against him all night and practically refused to move, radiating heat and lying on his covers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, though, the ringing continues on and on, so Dean groans and cracks open his eyes to gently elbow Miracle's head away from his face. He flops over, ignoring the tongue licking his hair. Damn dog. Always tryna lick some-fucking-body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean distractedly shakes Miracle off and sits up in the bed, gruffly answering the phone with, "Yeah?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh, um, Dean," comes the hesitant voice of someone he doesn't immediately recognize, though he feels like he probably should. Thankfully, she clarifies for him. "It's Kaia. Uh, the girl from, like, the alternate dimension that one time. Or, well, a couple of times, really. The dreamwalker. Do you—do you remember me?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I remember," Dean assures her, clearing the sleep outta his voice. He closes his eyes and kneads at the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "What can I help you with, Kaia? I'm assuming this isn't a social call." There's a long beat of silence, so he drops his hands and opens his eyes. "Or maybe it is, which is fine, too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia coughs over the phone. "It's not. Look, Claire takes these trips sometimes, usually once a month. I don't ask because she doesn't tell me. If she wanted me to know, she would. I just ask if she's safe, and she promises me she is. But we have a system. Before she goes, she gives me a time frame for when I need to start worrying if she doesn't come back when she says she will and won't answer her phone. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>also </span>
  </em>
  <span>tells me that the only person I'm allowed to talk to about this is you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Me," Dean says, swallowing down the sigh he wants to let out. Fuck, why is is </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>him? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Just </span>
  </em>
  <span>you," Kaia clarifies. "Sam can't get involved. Claire insists that—if anything goes wrong—I'll make sure only you and I will handle it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean scrubs his fingers over his eyebrow. "Sam can't help anyway, not at the moment. He's out on a case with Eileen, so you're settling for me right now. If this is serious, I'll bring him in no matter what Claire wanted. Oh, and ya need to call Jody." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Absolutely not," Kaia says sharply, making his eyebrows jerk up. "Do you have any idea how worried she would—no, I'm not getting her involved with this, especially if Claire didn't want it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That ain't right, Kaia, and you know it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, Claire and I aren't kids anymore. This is our decision, so can you please just respect it and help?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Dean mutters with a sigh, shoving Miracle away as he gets out of bed, "I'll go along with it for now. If shit gets serious, I'm calling whoever can help, </span>
  <em>
    <span>including </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jody. You understand?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia hums softly through the line. "That's a deal. Thanks, Dean. See you in five." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hours?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Minutes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What?" Dean blurts, turning to look helplessly at Miracle. "How are you—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Claire promised you'd say yes if I asked, but I sort of put off calling you until the last minute. Anxiety. Anyway, be ready," Kaia tells him, and then the phone goes dead when she hangs up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean stares at Miracle a little helplessly for a moment, then wordlessly makes for his duffle. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia usually isn't one to scowl—not that Dean remembers, anyway—but her leg is jumping with spastic energy and her hands are in fists when he slides back into Baby after dropping Miracle off at the dog spa that he gets treated to whenever there's a case and no one left behind at the Bunker to look after him. He's spoiled as fuck, honestly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hasn't seen Kaia in a while, not since before The Snap. And honestly, fuck Marvel for making that a thing, and fuck Chuck for pulling a Thanos because he never really had any originality to begin with. Thank Jack for Jack, though, because those in The Snap didn't even know there had been a snap to begin with. Life continued on as normal, except for those close enough to the Winchesters to get the actual story—including Jody's bunch, so Kaia, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though it has been a while, she still looks mostly the same. A little taller. Her hair is a little longer. Her skin is a little darker. She's in her early twenties like Claire, isn't she? It's been almost ten months since The Snap, and Kaia has been back for a couple of months before that, right? So, it has been about a year since he's laid eyes on her or spoken to her. Claire did call with a Hunter question about five months back, so he's heard from her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright, where to next?" Dean asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia jerks her chin towards the left. "Head for the highway. We're leaving Kansas." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Where'd you come from?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ohio." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Jesus, Kaia, how long have you been driving?" Dean mutters, shooting her a small frown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Couple of days." Kaia shrugs and turns to look at him, pointing to the shaded bruises under her eyes, arching an eyebrow. "Claire calls these designer for a reason. I don't sleep much, even under usual circumstances. It's worse when I'm stressed." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean softens against his will. "I'm sure she's fine. If you wanna catch a nap, I'm good to—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No," Kaia says, then smiles at him in vague apology. "Sorry, thank you, but I'm—I'd rather not. I'm used to it, and anyway, I need to catch you up on everything. You good to drive and listen at the same time, or do I need to wait until we stop for food?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nah, I'm good. What do you got?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So, Claire leaves around the same time every month, no matter where we're at. She tries to make sure we're not on a case, but if we are, she's usually in a rush to finish it up. Whatever she's doing, it's important enough that she'll just leave me to tie up the loose ends if we've already, you know, handled whatever the problem is." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean raises his eyebrows. "She leaves you to clean up? Really? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Claire?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know." Kaia's lips twitch. "Only if it's that time of the month, and on the rare occasion we're on a case at that time. She doesn't leave me if things aren't safe, obviously. You know how stubborn she is. But, if we're in the all–clear, she goes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And you don't know what she's doing?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You haven't...asked?" Dean says cautiously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia glances at him, then shakes her head. "No. Like I said, if she wanted me to know, she'd tell me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So you have no idea where she was last?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh no, I do. We have these GPS alerts on our phones in case we ever get separated. If the phone gets busted or the GPS gets shut off, the other one gets a notification about it. We have it set so it will send the last known location." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh. Huh." Dean blinks, slightly surprised. That's pretty damn smart, actually. "That's a good idea. A good safety net, at least. Woulda helped me out in the past, that's for damn sure. So, where was she?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Arizona. Not too far out from Flagstaff. If you're willing to let me drive, we can make it in just under two days," Kaia tells him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean glances at her, then sighs. "Look, I don't let just anyone drive Baby, alright? Besides, I don't need much sleep either. I'll nap when you do." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fine by me," Kaia replies carelessly. "Just as long as we get there as soon as possible, I don't care." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm gonna need you to be straight with me, Kaia," Dean starts, only to blink when she snorts. "What?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia coughs. "Nothing, sorry. Go on." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay. Be honest, do you think she's in some kind of trouble?" Dean asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Kaia says bluntly, the skin around her eyes tightening, her fingers tangled in her lap. "When we aren't together, she's always calling or texting to check in on me. The last message I received from her was from two days ago. She won't answer my calls, her GPS is off, and there's no chance that her phone is just broken. She knows my number by heart, so she would have called to tell me not to worry. We have a system, like I said, so I know she's in trouble. I just...don't know what </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind </span>
  </em>
  <span>of trouble." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean blows out an explosive breath. "Awesome." </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>For traveling company, Kaia is pretty great. She's fine to talk, but she's okay with being quiet, too. She listens to whatever Dean puts on the radio or in the tape-deck, seeming to know a wide variety of songs, bobbing her head along or singing under her breath. She doesn't sleep, doesn't ask to take any bathroom breaks, doesn't even bring up food. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She's a good kid, but a resilient one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since she's not voicing her needs, Dean instinctively keeps a keen eye on her. She doesn't say she's hungry, but he hears it when her stomach growls, so he pulls over at a diner without asking. She doesn't complain, so he assumes it's fine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they go in, Kaia sort of shrinks into herself. She's wearing a large sweater that clinches at her wrists, but she pulls the material over her hands and sits very small and still in the booth. Shy, almost. She smiles tentatively at the waitress, gives her order quietly, and stares down at her soda in silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know you're worried," Dean says, "but Claire is probably one of the most stubborn girls I know. She won't take any shit without a fight." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia glances at him, nodding. "I know. That's what I'm worried about. She's smart, don't get me wrong, but her sense of self-preservation is a little skewed. If someone wants her to cooperate, she's not going to, even if they threaten her life." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"She knows you're gonna look for her. If nothing else, she would stay alive to make sure you don't walk into something serious," Dean mutters. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You know the life, Dean," Kaia says. "It's not always that simple." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. "I do know, but… It's like you said, she's smart. She can handle herself." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That seems to help, even minutely. Kaia smiles slightly and falls quiet, seemingly in deep thought. They eat in companionable silence, and Dean can't help but think that he's absolutely going to kill Claire when he finds her for getting into trouble, especially since it's worrying Kaia so much. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't know that much about Kaia, not really. He knows he once put a gun to her head, which wasn't his best moment, admittedly. It should make things awkward, but he's pretty sure that helping save her life a couple of times made up for it, at least a little. He thinks she's a good, strong kid, if not a slightly shy and awkward one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows through Jody that Kaia and Claire have been hunting together since Kaia made it back. He also knows that Claire was a fucking wreck before that, when she thought Kaia was dead. It hadn't been explicitly said to him, but Dean gets the idea they're a little more than friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, the stakes are pretty high. Kaia visibly cares about Claire. She's concerned, worried, anxious. If anything goes wrong, Dean just </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Kaia is going to be heartbroken about it, and he really doesn't want that to happen. Not for her sake, and also for his own. He's fond of Claire. He can't help it. There's a lot of history there, and he can't think about her without thinking about Cas, but it hurts less accompanied with the thought of Claire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah, he's gonna kill Claire when he gets finished saving her. He's getting too old for this shit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They're back on the road less than an hour later. Kaia is slumped down in the seat, her shoes kicked off and her feet planted on the edge of the bench so she can balance a notebook against her thighs. There are no lines on the paper. She's drawing. She keeps glancing over at him, and it takes a couple of peeks in retaliation to see that she's drawing </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She's actually doing a damn good job of it, too, even when the car jostles her. It's a little weird and she didn't even ask, but he doesn't really mind that much. Not at all, really. Whatever keeps her mind occupied. And hey, she's got some real talent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He figures blood-pumping music will ruin her whole vibe, so he's considerate enough to put in the tape that contains more mellow classic rock. If she appreciates it, she doesn't say. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They've been driving for about five hours—getting closer to night now—when Dean's phone rings. He pulls it out, unsurprised to see that it's Sam. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What's up?" he asks, first thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just got in for the evening with Eileen. Thought I'd check in with you," Sam says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean hums. "Yeah, I'm good. How's the case?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Infuriating," Sam mutters. "The string of kidnappings are too stretched out, and we can't connect the witnesses or victims at all. We're thinking a demon, but it's—it's really weird, man." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Weird how?" Dean asks, eyes narrowing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, we got tracks of sulfur wherever the victims are, but...the way they </span>
  <em>
    <span>die, </span>
  </em>
  <span>dude. It's—" Sam makes a complicated sound in the back of his throat, a grunt and a huff all at once. "Well, it seems like an angel." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean feels an automatic pulse in his chest, heart clenching. He hears his own breath hitch, then forces himself to exhale. "Right. Why is that?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Their eyes are burned out," Sam tells him after a long pause. "Like—well, you know." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Demons don't smite people." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nope." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Eileen thinks it might be an angel and demon team-up sort of situation. At this point, we've seen enough shit that I wouldn't be surprised. It just doesn't make sense. None of it makes </span>
  <em>
    <span>sense. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Some victims get away, some don't." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You interview those who do, right?" Dean asks, even though it's a dumb question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam snorts. "Yeah, but they don't have much to say. They don't know why they were taken, who took them, or where they went. They're just blind-folded and gagged. They all say that someone helped them get free, but they don't know who. Why would the person—or people—who took them just let them </span>
  <em>
    <span>go? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Why them, and why kill the others?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sounds like a mess," Dean mutters, grimacing. "I should have come." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Your help would be nice, but Eileen and I are fine. You just got back from that case in Utah, man. You need the break. How's Miracle?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh...enjoying another spa." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're already gone again?" Sam asks, sounding vaguely annoyed. "Dude, you've been working nonstop for </span>
  <em>
    <span>months." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean rolls his eyes. "Don't start lecturing me, Sammy. I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Besides, I'm with Kaia." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Kaia?" Sam sounds confused. "Our Kaia?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, our Kaia," Dean says, amused. He glances over to see Kaia looking at him with an arched eyebrow. He shrugs. "Don't worry about it. Tell me more about your case. What's the next clue?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, we're heading out of Idaho in the morning. The victim we talked to today was...well, she was pretty shaken up. She has a daughter, manages a gas-n-sip, leads a perfectly normal life," Sam tells him with a sigh. "We got a report of a Jane Doe being kidnapped a couple of states away, but the only description they had of her was that she was a young female and not local. There's no similarities between the two victims, but the kidnapping seems the same, so we're taking a chance and heading that way. Maybe we can catch up." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, seems like your safest bet," Dean agrees, pursing his lips. He glances at Kaia again, but she's drawing his eyelashes now. "After I get Kaia back home, I'll come meet up with you and Eileen." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'd rather you take a break," Sam mutters, "but we probably could use your help." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean hums. "I'm fine. Keep me updated." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Will do." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Give Eileen a kiss for me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sam says, huffing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Bye, Sammy," Dean chirps, grinning, and he hangs up when Sam echoes the sentiments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia focuses on him as soon as he slides his phone away, her eyebrows crumbling together. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Our </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kaia? What does that even mean?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It means we meet a lot of people, but only a few are important enough to be considered ours, kid," Dean tells her, chuckling when her nose scrunches. "I promise it's not a bad thing. There are probably a lot of Kaias out there, but you're the one we're closest to. It's kinda how we differentiate between normal people with families and our family who aren't really normal to begin with. Donna from the grocery store is different from our Donna. So on and so on." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah," Kaia says in understanding, "yeah, sure. Claire does things like that, too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That doesn't surprise me at all," Dean says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia hums. "Turn back towards the road. I want to get the slope of your nose right." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh, sure," Dean mumbles, then does as she asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's a little weird being her model, which is sort of what he becomes. Once she sees that he's fine with it and will let her instruct him which direction to move his head, she does it frequently. After that, she makes him put his hand loose and relaxed on the seat between them, then draws that, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it's fine. She's still worried, and drawing seems to calm her. He eventually gets used to being studied and scrutinized with a critical eye and just rolls with it. Flip his hand over? Yeah, fine. Make a fist? He can do that. Curl his fingers a bit? Sure, whatever. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hours later, it's past two in the morning and Kaia is yawning every few minutes. Dean's pretty tired as well, though he could probably push through it. He won't, just because he's pretty sure that Kaia won't sleep unless he does. He's also somehow </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>sure that Claire will throw a fit if he turns up with her girlfriend with bags under her eyes that are leaving designer territory and getting close to raccoon city. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, he finds a truck stop and pulls in a small corner for a nap, not asking. He can already tell Kaia will just tell him to keep going if he were to ask, so he solves that problem by not giving her the option. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She clearly knows what's going on, because she grabs her bag from the backseat and starts digging through it. She grabs a small case with skull stickers all over it and starts to get out of the car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean reaches out to grab her arm. "Nah, it's fine. I'll take the backseat, don't worry about it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The front seat tends to be warmer, just because both of their body heat has been seeping into it all day. He's fine to sprawl out in the back and let her take the front. Besides, she's smaller than him, and the backseat has a little more room—the only reason Sam dealt with the cold, all because he's gigantic and needed the space. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, thanks. I still—um…" Kaia hesitates for a moment, then opens the small case and tilts it towards him a little uncertainly. Dean blinks at the six neatly-rolled joints, a little surprised. She laughs, a small nervous thing. "I smoke. I mean, I won't if you're not comfortable with it, but it helps me sleep. Cuts my chances of dreamwalking in half, usually."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh no, it's fine. Do your thing," Dean says easily. Who is he to judge? He's had more than his fair share of weed in his lifetime, and he wasn't using it for medicinal purposes like she is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia hesitates again, then says, "Do you want any? Claire will smoke with me when she's in the mood. You don't have to, but you're welcome to." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean considers it, then shrugs. "Ah, what the hell? It's been a few years. Why not?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, cool," Kaia says, lips curling up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They end up sitting on Baby's trunk, passing the joint back and forth in comfortable silence. Kaia can do this pretty awesome thing where she makes rings of smoke in the air. Dean cannot, but he has a good time trying to anyway. Altogether, it's nice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That's the thing about Kaia. She's </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A simple, relaxed kindness. He knows she's been through a lot, and he's seen her at various peaks of emotion—fear, anger, frantic panic. She seems more settled somehow, even while worried about Claire. More at peace, maybe, or happier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean figures that comes with having someone care about her the way Claire does. From her story, he doubts anyone truly did before. No one believed her, no one tried to help her, and then there was Claire, determined to do both. He knows from experience how relieving it is to have family, and it wasn't until about ten months ago that he realized what a comfort it is to know you're loved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ah, it's always a lot harder not to think about Cas at night time. The weed helps. He feels unspooled and relaxed, tired from the driving and ready to sink into comfortable sleep. He might not even have a nightmare tonight. No dreams of his best friend being submerged and stolen away for once, and that would be pretty nice, actually. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After, he and Kaia climb into Baby—her settling in the front seat, him in the back. She seems altogether comfortable in the hoodie she pulls over her sweater, but he still passes her his jacket and won't take it back when she mumbles a small protest. They use their duffles for pillows and settle in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They're both asleep in seconds. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The GPS thing is pretty genius. It narrows it down to an exact area, which helps them very much in this case. The radius given includes a hole-in-the-wall bar and some sort of park that a lot of people are moving around at. They opt for the bar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's not a necessarily seedy bar or anything, but it's not particularly nice. There's a thin layer of grease over the menus on the table, and they don't seem to have air-conditioning, just fans set up in various corners of the room that blow lukewarm air. The place is dim, even in the middle of the day, but there are more people inside than he's expecting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's a woman wiping down the bar with broad shoulders and strong jaw, pretty brown eyes lighting up when she smiles as they approach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What can I do for you?" she asks kindly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean figures it's not a good idea to go the FBI route with this one, so he just says, "We're looking for someone, and we think she was here a few days ago. Is it okay if we ask you a few questions?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That honestly depends on who you're asking about," she replies with an unapologetic shrug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Her," Kaia says, swinging her phone around to show a picture of Claire, who's smiling and rolling her eyes at the same time, somehow, in the photo. "I just want to make sure she's alright. You know her?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman glances between them for a moment, thoughtful, then she nods. "Yeah, I know her. She doesn't seem like she's running from anything, so I figure it's safe to tell. Not that I have a whole lot to tell. She comes by the same time every month. Seems nice, mostly. Not very talkative, but she knows her drinks and likes our funnel cakes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia swipes left on her phone, and there's now a photo of them both on display, making silly faces at the camera. "She's in no danger from me. She was here about five days ago, right?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," the woman replies, glancing at the photo and seeming to take it at face value. "Like I said, she visits every month. I don't think she's local. I don't think the man she comes to see is, either." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Man?" Dean asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," she says. "He seems like the type to not want to be looked at, so I don't do any looking. She always orders for them both, and they sit in that corner booth over there, out of the way." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean sighs. "You got a description, maybe?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Tall?" The woman shrugs again, unbothered. "It isn't any of my business, so I stay out of it. I guess that's why they meet here every month. That's why a lot of people come here, 'cause me and the rest of my staff can either be your best friend or a complete stranger who doesn't even know you. Sorry, I really can't help you anymore than that." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, it's fine. I get it," Dean says, because he does. He likes places like that, being who he is and what kind of life he leads. The Roadhouse was like that. He glances at Kaia, then sighs again. "Did you happen to notice if she left with the man or not?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I think so," she tells him. "Could be wrong." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes. How very helpful. "Right, and I'm guessing you have no idea where she was going next." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman purses her lips, then reaches under the bar and smacks down a flyer. "We got a local festival going on for the entire month at the park. There are these tunnels you can walk through—sort of like fun houses with distorted mirrors and stuff, things people of all ages will get a kick out of. She seemed like a nice girl, so I gave her a flyer in case she was planning to stick around for awhile. She didn't say she was going, but she folded the flyer and kept it, so maybe she did. That's all I know." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's plenty," Kaia says softly, taking the flyer when the woman slides it over. "Thank you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman nods. "No problem. Hope she's alright."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Dean agrees, then steers Kaia out the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They regroup in the car, sliding into Baby and looking at the flyer together. It's a basic one, just giving times for hayrides and goat-feeding events. There is a small description of the tunnels the woman was talking about—no tours, just free to roam at anyone's leisure. Claire might have gone there, so they should probably check. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia sighs and tilts her head back against the seat, closing her eyes. There's a wrinkle of worry between her eyebrows, and her lips are pressed into a thin line. Dean cranks Baby up, but doesn't immediately pull away, watching her carefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't want to suggest anything that's going to stress her out more than she already is, but it's probably not great that Claire was here with a man. Just some random guy she meets once a month. He can't imagine why she would be doing that, and he can't help but be slightly frustrated that Kaia never asked what the hell she was up to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well," Kaia finally murmurs, opening her eyes and lifting her head, "she was here, at least."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We still don't know why," Dean says, a little pointedly, even if he probably shouldn't. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia glances at him, then frowns. "What are you trying to say?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm just—" Dean makes a vague gesture with his hand, then heaves a sigh. They're not going to get anywhere if he keeps trying to approach the situation lightly. He doesn't want to upset her, but in this line of work, that's usually how it goes. "Look, you're her girlfriend, right?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Kaia replies instantly, not even blinking, clearly not hiding it or ashamed, which is good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. "So, I'm not trying to get into your business, or hers, but it would have been a little more helpful if she wasn't keeping secrets from you, and you weren't </span>
  <em>
    <span>letting </span>
  </em>
  <span>her." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Letting—" Kaia's eyes spark with the first flash of anger he's seen from her in a long, long time. She sits up straighter. "First of all, I don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>let </span>
  </em>
  <span>Claire do anything, or stop her. She's her own person. Second, she wasn't keeping secrets from me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You knew about the man, then?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, and I'm not automatically entitled to just because she and I are dating. There's this little thing we have called </span>
  <em>
    <span>trust. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If it was important for me to know, she would have told me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Seems pretty important now," Dean points out, raising his eyebrows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If she was doing something she thought was dangerous, <em>she would have told me,</em> Dean. We have back-up plans for our back-up plans, so when she told me to come to you, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>only </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, if things were to ever go wrong, she didn't do it anticipating that anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>would. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If she trusts some man she's meeting here every month, then I do too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just like that?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just like that," Kaia says firmly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean heaves a sigh, reaching up to scrub a hand over his forehead. "Yeah, well, things obviously went wrong, and now we have some mystery man to worry about on top of it. I'm just saying it would have been a whole helluva lot </span>
  <em>
    <span>easier </span>
  </em>
  <span>if—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Easy isn't always effective," Kaia cuts him off. "Life isn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean. Being in a relationship isn't easy all the time, either. We came up with a system that works for us. We </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed </span>
  </em>
  <span>that system." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why?" Dean asks before he can think better of it, because it's obviously not his business. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia just sighs. "Claire is—well, she's got a lot of problems, alright? I have a lot, too. She's angry, she's withdrawn sometimes, and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucks </span>
  </em>
  <span>at talking, especially about her feelings. She'd rather just drink a beer and call it a night, or be pissed off in silence until she explodes. I'm anxious, I can't bring myself to talk at all sometimes, and I need space a lot. You wanna know what our first three months together were like?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean's not sure that he does, but she's clearly trying to make a point, so he says, "What?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The only things we were good at doing were fighting and f—and, uh, you know," Kaia says, stumbling for a moment as she averts her eyes and clears her throat, abruptly bashful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fighting and fucking, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean's brain supplies, and he wishes it hadn't. He doesn't need to know about that. "Uh, right. Wait, seriously? She was—I mean, you didn't see it, but she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>devastated </span>
  </em>
  <span>when—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, I know," Kaia interrupts quickly, clearing her throat. "For her, hurt tends to turn into anger. She can't just </span>
  <em>
    <span>be </span>
  </em>
  <span>sad; she has to be angry that she is, too."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah," Dean mutters quietly, grimacing. Well, he knows all about that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia frowns at him. "She was hurt that I was dead, and that didn't just go away because I was alive out of the blue. She just—she feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and most of the time, her anger is the loudest. So, past the initial reunion, we fought almost constantly." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm surprised you stuck around for that," Dean admits, eyeing her in surprise. "I always assumed you liked to avoid fighting." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I do," Kaia agrees, "but...not when it's her. That's the thing. She's my person, and I'm hers. We could have been at each other's throats for the rest of our lives, hating each other, and we </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>would have stayed together. It would have been a miserable life for us both, but being without her would have been worse. I'd rather be miserable with her than miserable without, and she feels the same way." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean can feel his throat go tight, so he clears it. Twice. "That doesn't seem...uh, good?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, no, obviously not. But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're </span>
  <em>
    <span>important. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You just know it, you can't even escape it, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can't </span>
  </em>
  <span>let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia might be curious, but she doesn't ask questions. She nods. "That's me and her. I barely knew her, was scared to die and fight, and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>jumped in front of that spear with all intentions of dying for her. I would do it again, right now. She would do it for me. Even if we were miserable. We love each other. We struggle to handle it sometimes, because it's so </span>
  <em>
    <span>heavy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but we do. And I just—" She shakes her head, clearing her throat. "I've been to a lot of loony bins, you know that, right?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Dean says. "No shame in it. I've been to a few, too. Honestly, I should probably be in one now."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right," Kaia murmurs, lips twitching. She huffs a weak laugh. "Well, I've been forced to go to therapy a lot. Rehab, too. Most of it is bullshit. I mean, my situation was—well, it's supernatural. It's not normal. But some of the things I've learned from therapy aren't bullshit, and it—it actually helped me and Claire. I thought, you know, why be unhappy together when we could just be...happy. It was going to take some work, but I knew it would be good. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> it would be worth it. And it was. It is. We have our system, Dean. I trust Claire more than I trust myself sometimes. Maybe it's hard, but a lot of things </span>
  <em>
    <span>are. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We're happy anyway. So, if she wants to meet up with a man I've never met before, as long as she makes sure it's as safe as possible in this life, then I trust her. That's all there is to it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean doesn't think he's ever going to be able to look at Claire and Kaia and think of them as </span>
  <em>
    <span>kids </span>
  </em>
  <span>again. They're young, he knows that, but they've both been through more than most their age ever have. He knows what that's like. When life loads so much shit on a person, they're aged beyond their years in so many ways, and there's nothing easy about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They're so young to have lived so long. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yet, he's a little pleasantly surprised to see how they've adjusted. Like she said, life ain't easy, but if they're somehow happy </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyway… </span>
  </em>
  <span>Well, they're doing a lot better than him in that department, at least. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, yeah, she's made her point. He gets it. He won't judge their system, not if it works for them. As much as this would have been simpler if Kaia knew certain things already, the threat to the ease in their relationship isn't worth it. Fine. He'll make do, and so will she. Cases are rarely simple, so it's not even that surprising, really. No need to complain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright, that's all there is to it," Dean says, nodding at her. He eases Baby into reverse. "Well, let's go see what we can find at the festival." </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The festival, as it turns out, isn't very helpful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, not to begin with. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The place is crawling with people, adults and shrieking children alike. People are all dressed for the weather—which, in Arizona, means that they're prepping for what they think hell feels like. Dean's been there; no flames, no brimstone. That being said, he's sweltering in all his layers, and he thinks that this might be hell after all. Kaia looks equally uncomfortable, sweat running down her forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stick together, deciding it's best to get a good look around first before trying to ask any of the vendors any questions. This means they're both surprised when they stumble across a tunnel blocked off by caution tape and a number of cops moving around the area. There's a small crowd of people trying to get a closer look, and even from this far back, Dean can see some suits moving around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is promising. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At first, Dean's tempted to go back and get a suit for himself, no matter if he'll be itchy and hot with it on. Something clearly happened here, and with Claire's last known location being here, he has a good idea that it involves her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia has another idea. She tugs on his arm, urging him further through the crowd, and he goes along with it because she seems so certain. They hover at the edge, turning away from the cops, and she shuffles closer to lean up and mutter in his ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Get closer, but don't draw attention to yourself. Also, don't freak out. Claire and I do this all the time. It works </span>
  <em>
    <span>every </span>
  </em>
  <span>time, trust me. As soon as you have the chance, get into the tunnel. I'll meet you on the other side in at least twenty minutes, okay? You'll know when to come out." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean throws her a wary glance, but...well. She sounds pretty confident. He's sure that Kaia and Claire can't always pose as FBI Agents like he and Sam do, so they must have </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>way to get what they need while on cases. He's willing to try her way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her way doesn't seem like very much, at first. To begin with, she just starts fluttering in between cops in a frantic flurry, tears in her eyes as she loudly shouts, "Have you seen my little brother? I can't find my little brother! Please, help me," and gathers the attention of a few officers one at a time. It's not very efficient when there are so many—a lot of the assholes just try and get her to calm down and go away, or they just glance at her and ignore her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then, in a truly terrifying plot twist, Kaia abruptly releases a bloodcurdling scream and promptly drops to the ground in a dead faint. Dean's first instinct is to immediately run over to her, and apparently it's everyone else's as well, including the officers previously ignoring her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And there's his opening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alright, well, that will work. He has a small window of opportunity, and though a part of him </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>wants to go make sure that Kaia is actually faking, he's pretty sure she'll be pissed if he wastes his chance. So, he skirts the line of the distracted crowd and crouches down, darting into the tunnel as fast as his bowlegs will take him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tunnel curves pretty quickly, allowing him to stand up out of sight from the opening. He moves faster, then, knowing he needs to get in and see what he can while he can, before getting out. Twenty minutes is all he's got, and he doesn't even know what the hell he's going to find. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When that turns out to be two suits up ahead the further he goes, he internally curses and comes to a screeching halt. He can just make out their figures in the distance, one seeming to be a woman and the other a man, the both of them crouching down and examining something on the wall of the tunnel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean wracks his brain for any ideas. They're obviously at the crime scene, which is where he wants to be, but he can't think of one reason that he could use to convince them. He could knock them out. Pretty risky, but this is about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Claire, </span>
  </em>
  <span>so he'd do it. He's had worse odds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as he comes to this conclusion, the suits stand up, and the man seems to </span>
  <em>
    <span>keep</span>
  </em>
  <span> standing up. He towers over the woman, unnecessarily tall, and Dean squints through the darkness. Is that—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yup. The hair is a dead giveaway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey!" Dean hisses, peeling away from the wall and moving towards them quickly. Sam is the only one to jump and turn around, but Eileen does a beat later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dean?" Sam mutters incredulously. "What the hell are you doing here, dude?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I could ask you both the same thing," Dean returns, stepping into the glow of Eileen's flashlight. He raises his eyebrows. "What are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>doing here?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eileen blinks at him, reading his lips. "Working a case, obviously." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I told you we were following a lead," Sam tells him, crossing his arms. "A girl was kidnapped from here five days ago. There's a lot of blood, way too much, so there's a chance she's already dead, but…" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean's stomach drops out from under him. His eyes crawl to the two large spots of dried blood on the tunnel floor. Oh, fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck. </span>
  </em>
  <span>"No, she—she wasn't alone. Shit. Okay, um, we're—I think we're all working the same case." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I thought you said you were with Kaia," Sam says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I am," Dean replies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eileen raises her eyebrows. "Where is she?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Pretending to be a damsel in distress at the moment, I think," Dean mutters. "Look, I need to know what you know. It's important." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam crosses his arms. "It sounds like you know more than us. What do you mean our Jane Doe wasn't alone? How can you be sure?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I gotta hunch that I don't want to be correct about, but I need more info. What do you got?" Dean asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well," Eileen says, "not much. We've been keeping an eye out for any kidnappings like the ones we've been following, or body-drops. They all have a few things in common. They happen right in the middle of the day, and there's the same exact symbol drawn in blood. Sam figured out that it's a witch thing, so I have no idea </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>we're hunting anymore." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean grimaces. "Awesome. What witch thing?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nothing too serious," Sam says. "I mean, not for </span>
  <em>
    <span>us </span>
  </em>
  <span>anyway. It's like a repulsion thing. It keeps people from looking too closely at whoever draws the symbol, as long as they use their own blood. It's not a full guarantee, but I'm assuming that's how the kidnapper manages to get away right in the middle of crowds with the victims. People </span>
  <em>
    <span>notice, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but they also don't. Kinda complicated, but a pain in my ass."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sounds like it." Dean takes a deep breath and glances at the dried blood again. "And this victim in particular? What do you know?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Again, not much," Sam mutters, clearly very annoyed by this. "Witnesses say she was young, and definitely not a local. Everyone knows everyone here, apparently. But, because of the symbol, they didn't have a clear description." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And," Eileen adds, crouching down to drag her fingers along the crevice at the bottom of the wall, then popping back up to show him, "there's sulfur, so a demon was definitely here." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean swallows. "Okay, and—and how many days between a kidnapping and a body-drop?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam scowls. "Seven to nine days. The bodies always appear back where they were snatched from. So, we'll either find the girl, or we'll see her body back here within the next four days." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah," Dean rasps, "we can't let that happen." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>obviously," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eileen says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, you don't understand," Dean insists, glancing between Sam and Eileen seriously, "we </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to make sure we handle this within four days." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dean…" Sam stares at him warily. "Why?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Because," Dean says weakly, "I'm pretty sure the girl that got kidnapped was Claire." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Claire? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Our </span>
  </em>
  <span>Claire?" Sam blurts out, eyes bulging. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Shit," Eileen mutters, which is fair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Dean murmurs grimly. "It's—Kaia called. It's a long story. I'm going to explain what we know, but I have about...oh, another minute before—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't get to finish, because just then, there's another bloodcurdling scream at the other end of the tunnel that Dean instantly recognizes. Kaia's unnecessarily good at that. Sam's head snaps up, hand going for his gun. Eileen can't hear it, obviously, but she takes Sam's cues as if they're of one body, so she goes for her gun, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What the hell?" Sam breathes out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean sighs. "That's just Kaia. Look, I need to get out of here quickly because I'm not a suit at the moment. Jim Rockford?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Jim Rockford," Sam confirms, nodding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright, Kaia and I will meet back with you two in an hour," Dean says, already heading for the other end of the tunnel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Be careful!" Sam shouts after him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean throws up a little wave. "Always am!" </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia is pacing back and forth, attempting to walk a hole in the motel carpet. She keeps pushing her hair back from her face with shaking hands, and her teeth are latched relentlessly on her bottom lip, chewing it over and over. Dean's heart goes out to her, it really does. This fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucks. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam is clicking away furiously on his laptop, and Eileen is sitting on the bed beside Dean, sharing her french fries with him. They're pretty tasteless, but he's sure that's due to his own concern. At this point, things are serious enough that he's contemplating calling Jody and Donna. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he'd suggested it, however, Kaia had begged him not to, not yet. She's already stressed because Sam and Eileen are involved now, but that's not her fault. No one can keep them from working whatever case they decide to. Dean respects Kaia and Claire's system, so he's agreed to wait until tomorrow before getting Jody and Donna involved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They have a four day time limit and not a lot to go off of. They've had worse odds with less people, but this is about Claire—about family—so they're all a little more frazzled than usual. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So, get this," Sam says, and it's such a relief that Dean nearly chokes on a fry. It has been bleakly silent for the past two hours. "Looks like there was a haunted warehouse here about a decade back. The locals thought it was malfunctioning machinery, but this was definitely ghosts. A man got an award for "fixing the machinery" and apparently still lives in town." He glances over at Dean, raising his eyebrows pointedly. "I think he's a Hunter. There's a chance that he's the man Claire was meeting." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Let's hope not," Dean says, "or else all that blood is Claire's. But we should still speak with him." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm going," Kaia declares instantly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean doesn't protest. "You and I will both go. Sam and Eileen are posing as agents, so we're better options. Sam, send me the guy's address and start narrowing down the list of places someone could be held captive around here, if you haven't already. Whoever is kidnapping people can't be going </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>far, since they bring bodies back." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Way ahead of you, man," Sam tells him. "We've got to bully our way into private records to look at privately owned land, but it shouldn't take longer than it will for you to meet with Alex Phillips." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eileen nudges Dean with her elbow. "Keep us updated, okay?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You, too," Dean replies, nudging her back. He stands up, nodding at Kaia. "Come on." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, they go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the way there, Dean can't help but eye Kaia in what's probably very blatant concern. He's spent the last two days with her, and though they didn't talk every single moment of that time, he feels like she's a lot closer to him than any other people around his age group—barring Jody and Donna, of course. She's notorious for keeping to herself, so he's got the idea that she has opened up to him somewhat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows he's pretty good with kids, but even if she's young, Kaia isn't a kid. He's established this already. To him, she will always be </span>
  <em>
    <span>young, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but that's it. This doesn't stop him from wanting to cheer her up in some way. He's tempted to ask if she wants to draw his hand again. He'd let her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a while of silence, Kaia picks her head up from the window and turns towards him. Her voice is quiet when she says, "I don't really...like other Hunters, usually." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that right?" Dean asks, arching an eyebrow at her, because she likes </span>
  <em>
    <span>Claire. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, not—I didn't mean you," Kaia blurts out quickly, wincing in what seems to be embarrassment for no reason at all. That's not what he was getting at anyway. "Or Sam and Eileen, really. I mean, just...older Hunters, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>men, are—well, they can be a little, um—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean frowns. "You've had some problems with other Hunters? Who? Claire, too?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's not like that. I mean, it is, but Claire handles it. I just don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>them." Kaia sighs when he frowns harder. "I don't know if you noticed, but women who hunt tend to be—they usually </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be kind of badass. Capable. Even better than the men, sometimes, depending on the man." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, I…" Dean trails off, pausing to actually think about it, though he never actually has. In truth, female Hunters generally </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>badass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first that comes to mind is Ellen. She never put up with anyone's shit. There's Jo, of course. Jody, obviously, and she gets shit done. Cheerful Donna, who can whack heads off of vamps with the best of them, and she's got a secret temper. Eileen might be one of the best Hunters Dean has ever had the pleasure to work with, both as a ghost and a human. Hell, even Mary—his mom—was a complete badass. Hunters are hardy people, gruff and no-nonsense, usually. That goes for the women as well, and Claire easily fits into that mold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia...does not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Kaia says, when his face clears with sudden understanding. "Like I said, Claire usually handles it. I mean, this life… I never wanted it, not before Claire. I'm not—I get scared. I'm quiet. My first instinct is to run, not fight." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do you—do you even want it </span>
  <em>
    <span>now?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean asks, because he can't stop himself. He's gearing up to tell her to get out and take Claire with her, kicking and screaming if need be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia nods at him. "Claire does, but that's not why. I won't lie. I'm not having fun when I'm trying not to be killed by some monster, even if Claire is. She's crazy, so whatever. But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>like the research. I like talking to the families, the witnesses, even the victims. I'm good at that part, at comforting them. Claire is shit at it, honestly, but that's—that makes it all worth it. We saved a kid a few months back, and he has our phone numbers because he was so scared that he wouldn't be able to reach us if something bad happened again. We're his heroes. He texts us every other week or so, just to say hi. And there isn't anything else in the world I'd rather be doing than this, even if I'm scared sometimes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hunting is—it can drain you," Dean murmurs, glancing at her with a wry smile. "It's exhausting. Sometimes, it's even a bitter, miserable life. Most times, actually. But what you're talking about, that's why I do it, too. Anyone can be a Hunter, but only a few realize it's not about the monsters at all. It's about the people. Saving them." He shakes his head, sighing. "Nine times outta ten, you're not gonna get a thank you. You'll blow into town, save lives, then leave without anyone the wiser. There are times when you can't save 'em at all, and that might be worse. But you do it anyway, because nothing else—nothing in the world—will feel the way it does when you do get that rare thank you, when you become someone's hero, when you save people." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know," Kaia whispers. "That's why Claire loves it. That's why I don't want to stop doing it. I'm not the best at the fighting part, but she's very good. We balance each other out. It's just—well, other Hunters look at me and </span>
  <em>
    <span>know." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean raises his eyebrows. "Know what?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That I'm not a typical Hunter. I don't—I'm not like them. Claire doesn't really care, but I just don't quite </span>
  <em>
    <span>fit, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and they know it. They think I'm too quiet, too shy, too weak. It's worse if they find out I'm a dreamwalker on top of it, because then I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>different. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I'm not normal. That usually causes a stir, because not normal things don't go over well with most Hunters, as I'm sure you know." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I know. I really do. But Kaia, listen to me, forget all that shit, okay? So what if you're a little timid? You care about the people. You're doing it anyway, so fuck what they think." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You sound like Claire," Kaia murmurs, her lips curling up fondly. "I don't know. It's different for women, too. Like I said, they tend to be badass. Men suck, generally, so this doesn't surprise me. The thing is, I'm very much </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a badass." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Bullshit," Dean barks, staring at her incredulously, nostrils flaring in annoyance. "I'd like to see half of those assholes withstand the bullshit you have. I bet a lot of them would shit themselves in the Bad Place, and I've known more than a few Hunters who wouldn't just jump in front of spears, not even for family, let alone someone they just met. You're plenty badass, Kaia. Plus, you had, like, a whole evil twin. That's just </span>
  <em>
    <span>textbook </span>
  </em>
  <span>badassery." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia laughs—a small one, but a bright one. She shakes her head at him, amused and obviously delighted. "Well, if </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean Winchester </span>
  </em>
  <span>says it, one of the most badass Hunters there is, then I can't really argue it, can I?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, you cannot," Dean agrees, then snorts. "Also, I'm not that much of a badass. I once licked a battery just to see what would happen. A car battery. I was thirty-two. Do not recommend. Don't tell anyone this, obviously." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Our secret," Kaia murmurs, smiling slightly. A beat later, the smile drops, and she sighs. "I do get it, though, why they look at me like they do. They can tell I'm scared. They know I'm afraid." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's the thing," Dean tells her, "everyone is. We just act like we're not. I've gotten my ass handed to me by </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and if you think I wasn't terrified, well, I was. Whether it's a simple monster or the worst thing the world throws at me, a vampire like any other I've killed a hundred times or The Almighty, I'm afraid every time. We all are, but we do it anyway, and so do you. Unlike all of us, though, you're not scared to show your fear, and I think that's probably braver than anything else." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh," Kaia says, very softly. She blinks at him, then swallows, then smiles and looks away. "Thanks." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean hums. "No problem. Hey, you said Claire handles it, right? How does she do that?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"She's badass enough for the both of us," Kaia murmurs, letting out a startlingly wistful and dreamy sigh. "If anyone looks at me wrong, she just beats them up. It's great. It's hot." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, wow," Dean blurts, then barks out a laugh as Kaia groans and lets her head thunk on the window once again, clearly a little mortified. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean leaves her to her mild and unnecessary humiliation, figuring she'll appreciate it if he doesn't tease her for it. Kinda hilarious, admittedly, but he has </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>tact. When they get Claire back, he's definitely teasing </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>about it, though. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's silence for the rest of the ride, and then they're pulling up a long, dirt driveway to stop in front of what appears to be a single-wide trailer and a graveyard of cars—multiple gutted bodies littered around, but for seemingly no reason. Alex Phillips probably sells the parts, but Dean can't imagine why he keeps the frames. It's definitely not for decoration. A lot of them are rusting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They're both piling out of Baby when the screen door swings open and a man—presumably Alex Phillips—steps out on his rickety stairs. He's a thin man with red, leathery skin that contains some pale scars scattered on his arms, and he's glaring out at them with immediate distrust. Yeah, he's looking more and more like a Hunter by the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alex Phillips?" Dean calls out as he and Kaia approach side-by-side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What's it to you?" the man asks, and his voice is very smooth and soft, shockingly enough. "Who are you and what the hell do you want?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean resists the urge to grin. "I'm Dean Winchester, this is Kaia. We're here about that spot of trouble you handled at the old warehouse on Lockwood Road about a decade ago." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man squints at them, flicking his gaze over Kaia first, then paying more attention to Dean. After a beat, he says, "It was ghosts." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We thought it might be," Dean replies easily. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I'm Alex," Alex says, relaxing just a little bit as soon as he realizes they're Hunters like him. He jerks his head towards his house. "Ain't no point in standing out in the heat. Come on in." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The inside of Alex's home is spotless. The fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>fridge </span>
  </em>
  <span>shines. Dean is almost scared to sit down on the couch Alex points to, but he does anyway. There's a cat sitting on top of the TV, tail flicking lazily over the screen. Dean glances at Kaia to make sure she's fine, and she mostly seems to be. A little tense, a lot quiet, but fine. Trusting him. Good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We won't take up too much of your time, man," Dean says, cutting right to the chase. "You heard about that kidnapping that happened last week?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, heard about it," Alex tells him. "Didn't think it was my kinda thing, though. I almost called someone in to check. I can't, 'cause I'm local and the cops are all over it. Some girl. You knew her?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. "She's family. We're looking into it, and it's definitely our kinda thing." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What can I do to help?" Alex asks, and oh, Dean likes him a lot. This is great. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The girl that went missing," Kaia cuts in, still withdrawn and visibly wary but determined nonetheless, "she's not local, either. She's a Hunter. We thought she might have been in contact with you at some point. Her name is Claire."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex frowns, which just makes him look like he's scowling, but Dean's pretty sure that's just how his face works. "Nope. Last Hunter I ran into around here was about five years back, some weird fella. He posed as FBI, of course, but he gave the weirdest fucking name for it. Goddamn popstars." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean feels his heart trip in his chest. "What did you just say?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Alex continues, scratching his chin as he scrunches his face in thought, "we had a situation at the local library. Some kinda witch thing. He just happened to be passing through, and he offered to help. I can't exactly pose as the five-o in my own town, so I was pretty thankful. Real weird guy. Told the officers his name was Agent Gaga. God, what was his fucking name?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Cas," Dean croaks, feeling absolutely nailed down to the couch, his hands clenched into fists so hard that his knuckles stand out stark-white. He has to clear the lump out of his throat. "Castiel. That was—you're talking about Castiel." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex snaps his fingers, pointing at him. "Yeah, that's the one. You know him?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Knew," Dean says woodenly. "I—he's—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh. Well, hell." Alex grimaces, clearly needing no elaboration. "That's a damn shame. He was weird, but he was alright. But yeah, he's the last Hunter I ever saw here. Ain't no girl come talking to me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean's on his feet so fast that he sways for a moment. He feels light-headed. "Thank you," he hears himself say, rather stiffly. "We appreciate it. If you'll excuse me, I have to—I—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't say much else before he's practically flying out the door, rushing down the steps without looking back. He's in Baby and behind the wheel with his face pressed up against it in what feels like seconds, not even sure how he got there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This doesn't happen that much anymore. It's been nearly a fucking year. He's gotten pretty good at keeping his shit together, but sometimes it all falls apart with a suddenness that catches him off guard, blindsiding him before he can build up defense to it. And then, next thing he knows, he's curled up somewhere struggling to breathe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thing is, Dean didn't know Cas was here five years ago. He wasn't here with him. He doesn't even remember what big bad was trying to end the world five years ago. Cas never mentioned a witch thing in some bumfuck town in Arizona, but Cas wasn't always in the business of mentioning things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like he never, ever, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>once</span>
  </em>
  <span> mentioned that he was in love with Dean, not until he was about to die for good this time, not until it was sure to absolutely rip Dean's heart out, the cruel bastard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>stupid that Dean can lose his collective shit like this, still. He has worked really fucking hard to keep on pushing through and not let everything sort of just...spiral all the time. But honestly, it doesn't really take much if Dean isn't being careful, if he's not expecting it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At first, Dean thought he was going to be fine. Those first few weeks after everything happened, he and Sam felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>free. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Chuck was gone. They had their free will. And yes, but at what cost? Yet, they still </span>
  <em>
    <span>had it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it was so fucking nice to exist in that. Every single person they lost to get there would have wanted them to, Cas included, and they tried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam managed it. Dean did not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the month anniversary after Cas' death, Dean decided it would be a very good idea to get as drunk as he ever had in Cas' memory. And then...he just didn't stop. He drank every day to the point he blacked out, to the point that Sam flipped the fuck out and refused to let him have another drop. In retrospect, that was a good thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that, however, Dean simply did not get out of bed. Like, not at all. He just laid there, numb, staring blearily at the ceiling between long moments of sleeping that never seemed to make him less tired. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>exhausted, wrung out and sore, even when he didn't do anything at all. Sam couldn't haul his ass out of bed, Eileen couldn't coax him out, and Miracle rarely left his side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Honestly, those weeks are all fuzzy in his memory. He doesn't recall much. It all just seemed to pass in a daze, empty and lifeless. He's not even sure what eventually got him to get up, really. He was just abruptly struck with the idea that he could get Cas </span>
  <em>
    <span>back, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and that got him moving. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean tried absolutely everything. He prayed to Jack and got no answer. He tried to summon the Empty, with absolutely no luck. He researched and researched and never fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>slept, </span>
  </em>
  <span>trying to find something—anything—and there was...nothing. He would lay in bed at night, pleading to any fucking force out there that might be listening, and he never received an answer. He couldn't get Cas back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, what followed was the anger. Dean's been angry. He knows anger. This was different. He was on the edge of exploding at every second of every day. He broke his hand hitting walls, tossed various furniture around the room, lashed out at anyone and anything that provided a willing target. No one was safe, not Sam or Eileen, and they sure as hell didn't deserve it. But oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>god, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he hated them. He hated them more than he hated everything—hated that they were happy, hated that they shared smiles, or watched movies together, or went on cases together, or got to fight with each other, and he hated—most of all—that they loved each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The anger lasted the longest, and to this day, Dean doesn't know how they tolerated him. He hates who he was back then. Bitter, furious, lashing out like a wounded animal too stupid to realize that people were just trying to help. But tolerate it, they did, somehow. Well, until Eileen locked herself in his room and told him to get it all off his chest at once, or else she really would kill him. She had looked at him and told him that Sam was gone for a few hours, then shut her eyes and waited. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean said horrible things to her. Things that he didn't really mean, even if he meant them at the time. He shouted as loud as he wanted, about absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of it, and Eileen just kept her eyes closed, a serene look on her face. When his throat was raw and he was crying, he touched her shoulder and hugged her for a long time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that, he wasn't angry anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, what came next was worse. It's this. It's what he deals with now, this sudden breakdown that comes out of nowhere when he least expects it. Just that knee-jerk response of </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, no, that's not right, that can't be true, that doesn't make any sense. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His thoughts are a mess, and he can't breathe through it, and he doesn't quite know how to come to terms with something that's undeniably true. It just shakes him apart, as if he was never actually going to be free in his life. And really, he isn't. This claims him now, and there's no freedom in it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam had told him that he went through the five stages of grief, but in reverse, and now he's stuck in some sick, twisted version of denial that strips him of the ability to function at certain times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucks. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, somehow, there comes the point where everything sort of comes back together, like a photo coming into focus. His ears ring and his eyes burn, but he can make sense of the world again, even if he'll never truly understand it if Cas isn't here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This time, when things start swirling into place, like watercolors sucked down a drain, there's a warm hand pressed tentatively against his arm. He blinks rapidly, exhaling shakily, and he turns to find Kaia watching him with visible concern. She looks very worried, which makes him want to laugh it all off and act like it never happened. He's not brave like her. He doesn't know how to show his fear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dean," Kaia says softly, "are you okay?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine," Dean tells her, willing it to be the truth. And, soon, it is. Even if it's always a lie, too. "No, seriously, I'm fine. Just—well, um…" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia shakes her head, cutting him off. "Don't. I know about Cas. I know he was important to you and Sam. Jack and Claire, too. I get it. Grief. I really do. So, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I'd never make Claire, not until she was ready, and I won't ask you to." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean sort of...deflates. "Right. Uh, thanks." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sure," Kaia says lightly, dropping her hand and looking away. "We should head back, see if Sam and Eileen found anything." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Dean agrees, taking a deep breath and cranking Baby, pushing his breakdown aside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claire comes first. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Dean and Kaia make it back to the motel room, there's blood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A lot of blood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room is trashed. Someone really put up a fight, which isn't that much of a surprise. Sam and Eileen wouldn't just go </span>
  <em>
    <span>willingly. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There are papers scattered everywhere. Sam's beloved laptop is snapped clean in two. The blood isn't splattered, so it's likely not any major arteries, but the large still-soaked spots ensure that isn't much of a comfort. They're far apart, though, which means it's likely two different people, so there's a better chance Sam and Eileen haven't bled out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean takes all of this in for about two minutes while Kaia hyperventilates right next to him, and then he takes a deep breath and releases it. Okay. Fine. This is—fuck, this is so bad, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so bad, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he has a young woman freaking the fuck out right next to him and missing brother who hasn't been truly taken anywhere against his will in...years, maybe? It's been a while, is the point, so this is… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, it's not the time to panic. It's time for him to fucking buckle down and handle this shit, save his brother and Eileen and Claire. But first, he needs to make sure Kaia isn't going to pass out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey," he says sternly, making her whip towards him with wide eyes, "gather every single piece of paper in here. You good with computers?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia blinks really fast, then swallows and shrugs a little stiffly. "Somewhat. Claire is better. I'm good enough, why?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sam always backs up anything for a case on his hard drive in case something happens to the computer. See if it's still there and use it on the laptop you have, but get the papers up first." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right. Okay. What are you about to do?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sam is smart," Dean tells her. "If he had the time or the chance, he might have left some sort of clue. Or maybe even Eileen. She's good about things like that, too. I'm gonna look around, then head up to the office and try to see if there are security cameras here that might have picked up on something." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good idea," Kaia says, then straightens her shoulders and immediately sets to it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean does the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thirty minutes later, Dean is walking back into the room and saying, "We've got a problem." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The opposite," Kaia says, looking up from her laptop. She blinks at him. "Okay, you first." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The hotel manager is dead and the camera footage has been wiped," Dean tells her with a grimace. "It looks like he was stabbed. Your turn." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia looks a little sick, but she turns her laptop towards him. "Sam found an old hunting cabin out in some woods south of here. It used to belong to a prominent family here, but they pretty much abandoned it. Privately owned, so the records were sealed. But someone opened them, and it wasn't Sam who did it first. He seemed to think that's where Claire is." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Did he have any other options?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not that I can see. Everything else is too open and accessible or frequently visited." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can't hurt to check," Dean mutters. "It's about all we have to go on. Well, that and Sam's clue." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What clue?" Kaia asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean lifts up one of the bloodied papers from the table, sliding it towards her. "He didn't have much time, I don't think. He only got to write one word."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Stalin?" Kaia stares down at it in confusion, then glances up at him. "Like Joseph Stalin, or is he telling you to stall?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Joseph Stalin." Dean rolls his eyes. "Sam's a huge nerd. It's less about the man himself and more about what he said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I trust no one, not even myself. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He came up with it when he was fresh out of college and as we were getting heavy into demons and shit. It means there's risk of being possessed, so we can't just immediately trust a familiar face." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia raises her eyebrows. "Clever." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't tell him," Dean mutters, "but yeah." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We should go," Kaia says, pushing up from the table. She looks around the room with a frown, eyebrows crumbling together. "This is going to look really bad on Sam and Eileen when the hotel manager is discovered." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yup," Dean agrees. "It was gonna look bad anyway when they were discovered posing as FBI agents. This is just...worse. They'll be fine. Come on." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, they go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In Baby, Kaia is a mess of visible nerves and worry. Her brown skin has taken on a chalky hue, and her eyebrows are practically sewed together. She's got her hands clasped on her jumping knees, as if that will hide the way they tremble, but it doesn't. She couldn't draw right now, not one straight line. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to tell her that it's going to be okay, but he knows better than to make a promise he won't be able to keep. There's likely nothing he can say or do to make this any better for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dean," Kaia whispers, staring out the window with wide, reflective eyes that swim with unshed tears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, Kaia?" Dean asks, his voice as soft as he can make it, even without him trying. He's being so gentle with her. He can't help it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Your person…" Kaia looks at him, her face drawn, making her look absolutely exhausted and more than a little lost. "Do you still have your person?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A lump forms in his throat, and he looks back towards the road, his hands clenching tighter on the wheel. "Ah, no," he rasps. "No, I—I don't." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What's that like?" Kaia asks, and her voice cracks with distress in the middle. "Losing your person?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's, um—it's—" Dean swallows again, staring at the road with intensity because, if he's looking at it and not at her and focusing hard enough, he's probably going to manage to keep breathing semi-normally. Maybe. He blinks really hard, trying to gather the thoughts that go scattering in all directions, but they elude him, and he says the one thing that he usually doesn't, not about this—the truth. "It's a heartbreak unlike any other, and I've known a lot. Like, you said before that your person helps your soul exhale, right? Losing 'em is like—it's as if your soul is being suffocated, just all the time." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to take it back instantly, wants to backtrack and never let the words leave his lips. Because, for all that they're true, that's not something he wants her to worry about. That's not something he wants her to experience. He wants to go back in time and tell her that she doesn't need to know, because she'll never </span>
  <em>
    <span>have to </span>
  </em>
  <span>know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he can't. He can't take it back, and he can't promise her that she won't experience it, and he can't make it any less true. He glances at her and hates the way she's looking at him, stricken and genuinely frightened, her lips trembling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm scared," she says, like the admission needs to be said, like he might not have noticed, like she's alone in her fear and has to share it because she doesn't want to be alone anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, Dean gathers his courage and doesn't leave her lonely as he admits, "Me too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Together, in silence, they keep going. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Facing their fears.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hunting cabin is exactly where Dean would take someone if he was kidnapping them. It's very cliche and unfortunately the perfect place to commit murder. It's about fifteen miles out of civilization, surrounded by dense woods, and the cabin itself looks decrepit and abandoned, falling apart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean takes one look at it and says, "Yeah, this is the place. You got a gun on you?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I've always got a gun," Kaia tells him, lips ticking down. "Claire insists on it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Smart," Dean says, though he has to resist the urge to ask her where the fuck she keeps it, because he hasn't seen a hint of a gun on her not </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>time, and that's the type of shit he tends to notice. "Okay, I'm going in first. Stay right behind me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia doesn't reply, just nods and slips out of the car. She doesn't take her gun out, but he trusts that Claire has taught her about how to shoot it, at least. She wouldn't leave her girlfriend defenseless, Dean's very fucking sure of that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It becomes rather obvious that people have been, in fact, kidnapped and taken here. When they draw closer, they can hear muffled shouting, some more distant, some a little closer. None of the shouting sounds pained, just frustrated or frantic. He hears Kaia's sharp inhale of breath behind him, just like he hears her muffle it, as if she's ashamed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to tell her that it's okay not to be a badass, that she can be and not be at the same time, but now isn't the time or place. He's already focused, gun drawn and ears perked, his steps careful as he approaches the door. It's cracked open, as if inviting them inside, which isn't promising. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He eases the door open gun-barrel first, going tense as he caresses the trigger, only to freeze at the sight before him. Claire is tied up with her hands behind her back, wrists rubbed raw and bleeding from how hard she's struggling to get free, and her entire face is twisted into a scowl of fury. She's gagged, so he has no idea what she's saying as soon as she sees him, but he's under no illusions that she's not shouting and cursing up a storm. She's </span>
  <em>
    <span>pissed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean sweeps his gaze around the room, unsurprised to see that this place is trashed as well. Whoever this kidnapper is, they're a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiot </span>
  </em>
  <span>to take the people they have. Sam, Eileen, and Claire are some of the most stubborn people he knows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claire makes more insistent sounds, wriggling around to show that her legs are tied up as well and she's not very happy about it. From deeper in the cabin, there's muffled shouts and thumps against the walls. It sounds like two people, at least. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright, alright, keep your hair on," Dean mutters, lowering his gun and moving over to start cutting the rope away. He's quick about it, mostly because he's had to do it so many times before. He yanks the gag out of her mouth before swiveling behind her to start in on her hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"About fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>time, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean," is Claire's first words to him in a good number of months. "It took you long enough. Jesus, hurry the fuck up." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sam and Eileen?" Dean asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claire grunts. "They were put in a separate room. Fuck if I know why. Probably knew the three of us would figure a way out if left together." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Claire," Kaia says, stepping into the cabin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Kaia," Claire replies, her voice softening almost instantly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean ducks his head to hide his smile, which is how he gets to see in perfect detail as the ropes fall from Claire's wrists as her hands twist and pluck the knife right out of his grip. She's on her feet and behind him with a knife to his neck in seconds, keeping him in place from where he's still kneeling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the few seconds that it took for this to happen, Kaia has apparently summoned a gun from somewhere and has it pointed directly at her girlfriend with wide eyes and steady hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Goddammit," Dean says, heaving a sigh and tilting his head up when the knife digs into his neck a little bit more. He meets Kaia's gaze. "Stalin." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"She has the—we both have the tattoo," Kaia chokes out, but she's not looking at Dean at all anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claire—well, it's not actually her, which is very fucking annoying. The demon makes a small sound of amusement and says, "Yeah, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>have the tattoo before I cut it off of her. She screamed less than I thought she would, gotta say. A strong cookie. And put that down, you're not going to hurt her." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're not her," Kaia says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, no, but this is her body. Pay it too much damage and there's no hope at all, is there?" The demon clicks their tongue. "She is very furious about all of this, you know. She's such an angry, little thing, isn't she? Well, not at you, not really. Never you. Oh no, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>loves </span>
  </em>
  <span>you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia's nostrils flare. "What do you want?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nothing you can give me," the demon says. They run Claire's finger down Dean's cheek. "This one, though… Yes, he will do nicely. I think he's </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>what I need. You can just spectate, dear. A little bit of trauma makes us all a bit more beautiful. Just look at Dean Winchester here, after all." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean rolls his eyes to the ceiling. "Heard of me?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Who hasn't?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I get that a lot." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon hums. "Now, go on, throw your gun out of the door. If you don't, I'll just peel off </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>tattoo and slit your girlfriend's pretty throat before using him as I see fit. There's a love." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia's gun clatters out on the porch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Where's my brother?" Dean asks tightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Kicking up a fuss with that crazy girlfriend of his in the other room. You should have seen Sam's face when Claire knocked Eileen out back in the hotel room. I've never seen someone look so genuinely hoodwinked before," the demon muses, pulling at his shirt to get him to slowly stand up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're going back to hell very soon," Dean tells the demon, holding Kaia's gaze as she stands there, looking a little lost. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon laughs. "That's the whole point! Lovely, good to know we're on the same page. Come along. You first, dear. Walk ahead of us. No sudden moves."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So you want to go back to hell?" Dean asks, more than a little confused now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, that's the whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>point," </span>
  </em>
  <span>the demon repeats. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh, I could...exorcise you," Dean offers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Won't work." The demon sounds annoyed about this. "I've tried it. Nice of you to offer, though." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean has never been so confused in his goddamn </span>
  <em>
    <span>life. </span>
  </em>
  <span>"Okay, so wait, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go back to hell?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But you can't." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Precisely." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So...now you're up here possessing and killing people because of it?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, obviously not," the demon mutters. "I have a plan here. Just work with me, okay?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, no, that's never going to happen," Dean tells them, not at all surprised when the knife digs into his neck a little tighter. Charming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"There's the door," the demon speaks up, talking to Kaia now. "Go on ahead and lead us in. This should be a lot of fun." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean's not really expecting any of this to be fun. It has been a while since he's encountered a demon worth worrying about seriously, but one that doesn't go back to hell when banished is a pretty big deal. What the fuck is Rowena doing down there? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Actually, now that he thinks about it, he hasn't encountered a demon at all recently. They still come and go, he suspects, making their deals and doing what demons do, but they haven't been out of line in...a while. Crowley was pretty shit at managing them, mostly because he liked the chaos, but Dean can imagine that Rowena uses a firm hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He mentally sighs and tries to work out what the fuck is actually going on and how they're going to get out of this mess this time. It's always something. Don't forces of evil take a fucking break? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia leads them into the room, and Dean's eyes immediately latch onto his brother. Sam's leaning against the wall next to Eileen, and his shoulders slump as soon as he sees that Dean's caught. Dean almost tells him he's got no fucking room to judge, considering he got caught first. Eileen looks about as pissed as the demon was pretending to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then, all of a sudden, Sam's eyes are bulging and he's wriggling around in his ropes frantically, jerking his head to the opposite side of the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean follows his gaze and comes to an immediate halt, suddenly unable to move at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's just...there. Tied up and gagged like the rest of them and looking at Dean with wide eyes, not moving at all, frozen in place like he might just be a mirage made of stone. There's blood leaking from a cut above his eyebrow, and he's apparently been punched in the mouth a couple of times because his lip is split and a little swollen. He's in his undershirt, but it's hanging open, the buttons all undone, some popped off. Someone has been slicing at his chest—not deep cuts, just enough to cause some pain, if Dean had to guess. He looks like he's been beaten and tossed around for days. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he's alive. He's actually—he—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean forgets there's a knife at his throat and starts moving right for him, holding his breath, and it explodes out of him in a hiss when the knife cuts into his skin and makes him go still. Cas' eyes narrow, and Dean's heart thumps unevenly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay, this is… Dean doesn't actually know what this is anymore, but he also no longer cares. This could be the next apocalypse or the resurrection of Jesus fucking Christ himself, and Dean absolutely would not give a shit at the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas is </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive, </span>
  </em>
  <span>somehow, and Dean doesn't really know what to do with that. What happened? How did he get out of the Empty? Why is he here? Is he okay? How the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>does he always manage to get into so much goddamn trouble? None of those answers really matter, though, because the world suddenly makes so much fucking sense to him. It's like a slap to the face with sudden clarity, just a deep understanding of the fundamentals of life itself. Ah, yes, eating and sleeping and existing, and oh, being happy. That, too. He's been missing that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And where do you think you're going, love?" The demon hooks their chin on Dean's shoulder, draping themselves all over him. "If you want to keep your head attached, you'll do as I say." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If you want to escape this without being fucking evaporated," Dean says, never taking his eyes off of Cas, "then you'll let me go to him." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Crude," the demon says in approval. "Sorry, friend, no can do. You, Kaia, be a dear and go get the rope across the room. You're gonna have the honor of being tied up by </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dean Winchester." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia either does as she's told, or she doesn't. Dean isn't actually paying attention. He's just staring at Cas, who is staring at him, and that's pretty nice in a really terrifying, visceral way. Dean hasn't had one coherent thought for the last minute straight. This does not bode well for their odds in getting out of this mess, but they're all fucked if they're depending on him to be functional right now. Sam's going to have to handle this one, probably. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly there is rope being pushed into his hands, and he just stands there and holds it. He knows, distantly, that he needs to get his shit together, but that's easier said than done. He feels like he's been smacked right out of his own goddamn body, left suspended in some kind of in-between where looking at Cas is enough to sustain him forever. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dean," Kaia whispers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nope, not happening. He physically </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot. </span>
  </em>
  <span>For as long as Cas is staring at him, Dean has no choice but to stare back. He doesn't even think he's blinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon huffs. "Listen, I know he's pretty, even trussed up the way he is, but he can't be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>much of a distraction. If he is, I'll just kill him and be done with it, so get to tying, Winchester." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean jolts like he's been struck with lightning, and he curls his fingers around the rope. Somehow, he slowly manages to drag his eyes away from Cas, but then he's immediately tempted to look again. What if he's not there when— </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jesus Christ, he's losing his shit. Okay, fine. Time to get to the buckling down. He's watched Cas come back from the dead so many goddamn times that it should be a lot simpler. This isn't the first time, but so help him, it better be the fucking last. Before Dean dies, he wants to be outlived by Cas, just one fucking time, that's all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With stiff movements, he ties Kaia's hands behind her back, grimly making sure that they're tight enough to appease the demon watching over his shoulder. Not too tight, though. Even if she can't get loose, he doesn't want to hurt her. The excess rope is apparently supposed to be her gag, but Dean would literally rather die than do that to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Find something nicer," Dean snaps, throwing the rope to the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon laughs. "Oh, what a gentleman. Alright, let's get you outta some clothes, Dean. Take that flannel off and use that instead." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An acceptable alternative. Dean does it, keeping his face blank even when the blade nicks his throat again. Kaia offers him a timid smile, the skin around her eyes tight, and then she obligingly opens her mouth and lets him tie his flannel around her head. Again, he doesn't do it too tight, just enough that she won't be able to say actual words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean sighs, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "My turn, I'm guessing?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Anck, wrong," the demon tells him, the buzzer sound surprisingly accurate. They turn him and start marching him towards Cas, and he instantly sucks in a sharp breath. "Oh, wow, this must be the first time you've seen him since he died, right? Claire is absolutely throwing a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fit </span>
  </em>
  <span>right now. Cas-daddy, you'll be happy to know that she's downright worried about you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Cas-daddy?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean chokes out, horrified. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's a muffled sound from across the room, and if Sam is laughing right now, Dean's going to absolutely kill him when they get out of this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon hums. "Yeah, 'cause he's in her dad's body. Well, it's his body, but like her dad's twin. It's a pretty big source of Claire's trauma, you know. Anyway, he acts like a pseudo father to her, so it fits. Cas-daddy. How do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>feel about his tendency to collect kids, Dean?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Shut the fuck up," Dean says flatly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's like I don't even have a knife to your throat. Alright, tough guy, let's see what it takes to break you." The demon halts him right in front of Cas, then shoves him down onto his knees, leaving them at eye-level. "Now, Cas-daddy, are you going to cooperate this time? We all know how important this one is to you. If I let you speak, will you tell me what I want to know?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas just glares at the demon past Dean, which seems like a resounding </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but the demon chuckles. They lean forward, reaching out to roughly snatch the gag out of his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm going to set fire to your smoke and watch you burn," Cas says very matter-of-factly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Science does not agree with you," the demon replies. "Literally impossible." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I have already told you," Cas grits out, "I do not </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>what you seek. I cannot help you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon sighs. "Now, see here, this is where you're supposed to stop being difficult. I've got your favorite boy all at my mercy, and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> I want to make him scream, so do not test my patience." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas' eyes narrow again. "Do not make that mistake. I assure you it will not end well for you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh," Dean cuts in, working very hard not to swallow his tongue, "either of you could tell me what the fuck is going on at the moment. That would be great, thanks." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can't you tell?" The demon pats his cheek. "I'm about to torture you so that Cas-daddy will give me what I want. He's going to give in at some point because you're his—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What you want isn't something I can give you!" Cas snarls, leaning forward with bright eyes. "Why would I endanger so many people to protect information I don't actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>care </span>
  </em>
  <span>about?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon is silent for a beat, then they heave a sigh. "So you don't actually know? I mean, I'm still going to have to torture him to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely </span>
  </em>
  <span>sure, but if you don't know…" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I do not know," Cas grinds out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, I guess I can just kill everyone and be done with it, then," the demon mutters. "Alright, yeah, let's go with that. Starting with Dean, obviously."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey now, woah, woah," Dean says quickly, holding up his hands and waving Cas back when he immediately surges forward with a scowl, which would have been stupid because he's tied up and can't really do anything. "Uh, listen, you seem pretty reasonable for a demon. Why don't you tell me what's going on, and I'll see what we can do for you? Cas is, uh… Well, he's kind of prickly. Not really the type of person who helps a demon such as yourself. Don't blame him, he's an angel; it's sort of ingrained in him. Also, he's stubborn. But I don't mind." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're willing to help?" the demon asks dryly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean clears his throat. "Well, I've got a sudden motivation to live a lot longer. Also, I might be wrong, but I'm pretty sure you'll fuck off back to hell if we help you, right?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's what I need help with," the demon tells him, heaving a sigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Getting back to hell?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right, of course," Dean says, because sure, why the fuck not? His life is always a little fucked, so this just makes sense. No more crazy than defeating God, nothing beats that. "Can't you just, like, take a gate back? Pretty sure all the other demons do."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon groans. "Don't be an </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiot, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Winchester. If it was that simple, I wouldn't even be here right now. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>bitch </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rowena has me locked out, and nothing I do can get me back in." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean pauses, considering this. Fucking Rowena. Don't get him wrong, he doesn't hate her, even with their antagonistic history. Towards the end, he'd had something of a soft spot for her. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she's inadvertently the cause of his rapidly approaching death. Fucking hell. Fucking Rowena. Fucking demons and their weird as fuck plans. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's a frantic flopping noise of a body moving around from behind them, and Dean recognizes Sam's muffled words easily enough. Well, he doesn't know what Sam is saying, but he has an idea involving Sam, and judging by his sudden outburst, Sam is probably in the same mind as him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My brother," Dean says. "He's a witch. Well, no, not really. It might be a hobby, I don't know. Anyway, he sort of...studied under Rowena, back before she ended up downstairs and started running the joint. I'm pretty sure Sam can summon her." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon makes a thoughtful noise. "And what good will that do for me? Rowena will not accept me back. She is pretentious and stubborn." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean coughs. "Right, yeah, I know. Totally on the same page. But, well, she's kind of...um, family? Sort of? It's complicated. We faced the end of the world together. Sam and her were pretty close. Anyway, she owes us at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>favor. That's probably the best chance you'll have, so...might as well try, right? You'll have to let Sam up to handle everything." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hm." The demon is silent for a long time, then they sigh again like this is all a very big inconvenience. After a pause, they say, "Very well. Be aware that if this is in any way a trap, I will slit Claire's neck and throw myself down Cas-daddy's throat. I've taken his tattoo as well. Now, pull your hands behind your back and hold still." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a grimace, Dean does. He finally pulls his gaze away from the crack in the ceiling to focus on Cas again, now that the threat has...well, not passed, but turned to a simmer, at least. Better than nothing. Cas isn't looking at him right now, instead focused entirely on the demon, seemingly furious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean has done a lot of thinking in the last near-year. He's been on a whole journey of self-discovery all because his best friend made a grand declaration of love before promptly dying after. He's the worst person for that, truly, no contest. Still, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>sparked a lot of questions in Dean's mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, at first, he'd been wracked with guilt because his best friend was in love with him, yes, but what's worse was that the love was </span>
  <em>
    <span>unrequited. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Because, well, Dean obviously didn't love him back, not like that. He's been calling Cas a friend, a brother, a family member for the last decade. If he was secretly harboring an intense desire to be with Cas, he would probably not do that, right? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then came the delayed response of his reversed five stages of grief and the sudden, unbearable knowledge that he just wanted Cas </span>
  <em>
    <span>back. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Like, it didn't even matter how it happened or why or what it would take. He just seriously, genuinely missed him. Love confession and all, Dean wanted every day to wake up to Cas simply being there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had the passing thought, just once, that he'd give Cas anything he wanted if he would come back just </span>
  <em>
    <span>one more time. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And that thought snowballed into what, precisely, Cas would want, which is when Dean firmly put a pin in it and ignored it for approximately three months, because no thank you. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then, Dean nearly died on a case involving a particularly rowdy wraith, and he'd been pretty okay with that. The dying part, not the rowdy wraith part. It was at this point that Dean realized he was not, in fact, perfectly fine, as he insisted to Sam that he was. Being very relaxed about dying, about the idea of it, sort of just...accepting it—yeah, no, not great. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This led him to try and work out what the fuck his problem was, which pretty much immediately revealed itself to be Cas, like usual, because of course it's Cas. Even when he's fucking dead, Dean's having some kind of issues because of him. Some best friend he is, dying the way he did, just checking out like that's a totally cool thing to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which it's not, obviously, and Dean knows this, even though he's played ring-around-the-rosie with dying enough times that he probably has no room to judge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anyway, Dean once again had A Thought, and it was perhaps that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>actually do anything Cas wanted if he came back, and not just out of some kind of sick desperation. So, it took him about another month to wriggle the pin out of the first thought so he could sort of...figure it out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took about five crying sessions, two punched walls, and three different days where he watched gay porn and threw up from nightmares about his dad. Those were terrible days, admittedly. He was having a crisis and struggling to figure out how he could love and support Charlie, but hate himself for watching two men have sex and actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoy it. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There wasn't some sense of clarity that rushed in and alleviated all the stress. Dean just… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, gay porn works as good as straight porn, so now he watches both, whichever suits his mood at the time. Having nightmares about his dad beating the shit out of him has become infrequent, and he doesn't really know what this makes him now, but it helped him come to the conclusion that he wouldn't absolutely hate it if another guy sucked his dick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>And </span><em><span>that </span></em><span>discovery</span> <span>took him</span> <span>right next door to the big question of whether he'd hate it if the guy to suck his dick was Cas. Forcing himself to explore that fantasy while his best friend was dead was pretty shit on his state of mind, but he did anyway, and he realized that no, no, he wouldn't mind. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was devastating, obviously, because Cas was dead and it was far too late to be having these discoveries, but—well, he needed to know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wouldn't have needed to know if Cas hadn't confessed his love and then fucked off to oblivion, but he didn't exactly have a say in the matter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anyway, working out that he could possibly have had sex with his best friend with minor issues is wholly different than figuring out if he had any feelings for him. But this was, of course, the natural next step in things, and Dean didn't really have control of the situation at that point. His mind was rebelling in a way it never did before, chasing the shit he usually ran from, likely because the pain of it all made him feel alive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finding out if he had any feelings for Cas was shockingly harder than the sex part. Well, not so shocking, in retrospect. Dean and feelings do not mesh well to start with, mostly because he has an abundance of them and is shit at sorting them or figuring out what they are and what the fuck they mean. This was not his specialty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took a while. Lots of tears and talking to Miracle about it because Miracle can't talk and didn't seem particularly interested in the drama of Dean possibly being into his dead best friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stupidest goddamn thing made him realize. When Cas died, he left all of his things behind, of course, and no one touched them. Eileen never tried, Sam wouldn't, and Dean just </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn't. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He could barely walk past Cas' room without struggling to breathe, so it was a dumbass idea to </span>
  <em>
    <span>go inside. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But go inside, he did. And there, on Cas' desk, was the mixtape Dean had made him as a gift. One that he'd spent hours on, putting in the effort, all because what? Because Cas was gone, and Dean was angry at him because he didn't want Cas to be gone anymore? Because he never wanted Cas to be gone, to be anywhere other than with him, but he always seemed to be, all the time, and it </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, oh. Just that. Oh. A very small shift, a mere flutter in his chest, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yeah, that was— </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he knew. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean has been through a lot, he knows this, even objectively. He's suffered. He's been tortured, he's been forced </span>
  <em>
    <span>to </span>
  </em>
  <span>torture, he's seen things that a lot of people wouldn't be able to bear witness to and remain sane afterwards. He's been to hell. He's faced down the end of the world. Even worse, he had to hold his brother's dead body in his arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows tragedy, and he knows pain. But there's nothing—absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>at all—that broke him the way it did to realize he was in love with Cas, too. To realize that he had been for a very, very long time. To realize that it had become such a part of himself that it was something akin to pain that never ceases, one that he simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>adjusted to, </span>
  </em>
  <span>like all the other painful things in his life. Because loving Cas is painful, and the fact that he was dead only made that more blatant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, there was jealousy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean knows jealousy. He has been jealous of the dead, the living, and, most of all, those that live life without loss. He learned not to be, because the dead do not wish to be and the living will one day become so, and no one—not one person in the world, not even the worst person—deserves to feel the way he did when he realized that he was too late to love the person who was already gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That's a heartbreak of which Dean has never experienced before that moment, and it's not one he ever escaped. He's existed in it ever since, somehow, despite how crippling it truly is. Because Dean never got to love him, never got to say it back, and he never fucking would. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, Dean's being tied up by a demon who just wants to get home, and Cas is glaring at the demon with bright blue eyes that Dean can't stop looking at because did ever notice how pretty they are before? If he did, he didn't appreciate it enough. In fact, he hasn't appreciated anything to do with Cas enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He keeps staring because Cas is alive, and that's truly the best thing that's happened since—well, since Cas died, actually. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay, no, that's bullshit. Chuck was handled, and that was pretty great. And like, Dean has a dog now. He has Sam and Eileen, and that's awesome. It's not like his life just </span>
  <em>
    <span>ended, </span>
  </em>
  <span>though it sometimes felt as if it did, at times. But still, this is an improvement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Open your mouth, sugar," the demon tells him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean swallows. "Hey, what would it take for you to leave me and him without gags? It's—uh, it's been a while. I want to talk to him." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Too bad," the demon says, and proceeds to gag him before reaching out to shove Cas' gag right back into his mouth, too. Well, fuck. "Don't do anything stupid and you'll make it out alive to catch up with each other, deal? Now, be good."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, the demon plops him down right next to Cas and marches away to go focus on Sam. Dean watches the demon go for a moment, then focuses on Cas again, just staring at him since he can't say anything that he wants to. This time, Cas stares back, and that's what they do for a while. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Look at each other from up close. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just like old times. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Samuel, I was in the middle of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>feast." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam sighs. "Right, sorry about that. Look, I—we kind of need a favor." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that so?" Rowena sweeps up an eyebrow, regal and bratty and </span>
  <em>
    <span>ugh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean forgot how smarmy she really could be. "The last time you needed a favor from me, I ended up dead." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You insisted on it," Sam mumbles, sort of looking like a chastised puppy, which means he still harbors guilt about it to this day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kicked puppy look works on a lot of people, Rowena included. (Eileen, ironically enough, is completely immune.) "Alright, dear," she says with a lazy flick of her hand, "state your request." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can you take your demon back before it kills everyone, please?" Sam asks, stepping out of the way to show Claire—or, well, the demon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rowena immediately narrows her eyes. "Alvigor." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My Queen," the demon—Alvigor, apparently—says with a sneer and a mock-curtsey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>do you think you're doing?" Rowena asks sharply, standing to her full height, which isn't very much but still manages to be intimidating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Trying to get back home," Alvigor snaps. "You've locked me out, or have you forgotten?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You've been locked out for a reason, if you recall."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, yes, I know. I ate the children, my mistake, won't happen again. Fine, I've learned my lesson. Can I come home </span>
  <em>
    <span>now?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rowena arches an eyebrow. "I think you're a wee bit confused about how punishment works, dearie. See, you can't just tie up my fellow associates and threaten them until I agree to let you back in." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, what would you have me </span>
  <em>
    <span>do?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Alvigor snarls, glaring at Rowena with quite a bit of passion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Foster one," Rowena says airily, then holds up a finger. "Ah, ah, I said </span>
  <em>
    <span>foster, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and not eat. To clarify, you will not be eating them." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvigor recoils. "Absolutely not!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Then rot on this sorry excuse for a rock that spins uselessly around for eternity," Rowena says flippantly, shrugging. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll kill them," Alvigor threatens, waving their fingers around to encompass the whole room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rowena doesn't even bat an eye. "Throwing a tantrum won't get you anywhere either, but if you insist. What does it matter to me?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Rowena!" Sam barks, appalled and alarmed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, what do you have to worry about?" Rowena asks, glancing at him and rolling her eyes. "That boy of yours, wee Jack, has done something quite nice with Heaven, I've heard. You've surely got a spot there. All of you." She swivels towards Cas, smiling warmly, fluttering her eyelashes. "Nice to see you again, Tweetie Pie. They have a spot there, don't they? I'm sure you had a hand in it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas can't actually speak, but he does nod, and Dean glances between him and Rowena in confusion. What the fuck is she talking about? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, in that case," Sam mutters sarcastically. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rowena laughs at him. "Ah, Samuel, it was nice to see you again. I'll be going now, then." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gets maybe one step before Alvigor is surging forward to shout, "No, wait! Please, I'll—I'll foster one. Just don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave me here." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No eating?" Rowena checks, pausing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not one bite," Alvigor says earnestly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hm." Rowena regards Alvigor shrewdly for a few moments, then she waves a hand. "Yes, alright. You can go home. Go now." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claire's head almost immediately falls back as Alvigor pours out of her mouth in a thick stream of black smoke. It swirls in the air once before darting off, likely to never be seen again. Claire instantly crumbles to the ground, coughing and pressing her hand against her side with a grimace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia starts wriggling and making small, desperate sounds behind her gag, and Claire focuses on her immediately. Her face softens, then she's crawling towards Kaia and murmuring too quietly for anyone else to hear what she's saying. Kaia pretty much relaxes into her hands with a muted sigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Trouble in paradise?" Sam asks Rowena dryly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rowena snorts delicately. "Not as such, dear. Alvigor is a very troublesome demon. Needs to be taught a lesson or two, but nothing more." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We nearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>died," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sam snaps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Rowena agrees, amused, "but when don't you? It's something of a tradition for you Winchesters. No need to get upset about it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam opens his mouth, then closes it, then lets his shoulders relax. He shakes his head, lips curling up fondly. "Right, well, thanks. It's good to see you, as always. Get back to your feast." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course," Rowena says, "I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>the guest of honor."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then she's gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam immediately goes over to Eileen to help get her free, and Claire is still busy with Kaia, their heads pressed together as they whisper to each other, so Dean turns his gaze back to Cas. He was already looking, but he quickly flicks his gaze away when Dean looks back. It's kind of amusing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's apparently at Kaia's insistence that she and Claire do eventually break apart from each other, and she scrambles over to Dean rather quickly. Claire moves over at a more sedate, restrained pace, but she goes right for Cas, holding his gaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you alright?" Kaia whispers to him as she gingerly pulls the gag out of his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean obligingly leans forward so she can start cutting his hands free. "Yeah, I'm just fine. Got a little crick in my neck, maybe some back pain, but that just means I need to stop getting old. You?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I've been worse," she assures him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, that's generally my measurement for how things have gone. Is it facing God? Are angels falling? The Darkness still doing her thing? Well, there ya go. It's fine," Dean says, rolling his shoulders and shaking out his hands once he's free. He reaches out to grab her arm, letting them both stand up together. Both of their knees pop, and Dean blinks at her. "Well, mine does it because I'm old and I've lived a life that's hell on 'em. What's your excuse? You're too young for that shit." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia shrugs, then grimaces. "I have bad knees." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"A little bit of snack-crackle-and-pop ain't ever hurt nobody," Claire says gently, glancing over at Kaia with a small smile as she and Cas stand up pretty much in tandem—no popping from them. Dean's back to trying to look at Cas, but Claire is suddenly right in his way, reaching out to smack him right in the middle of his chest. "Hey, what the fuck was that about, Dean Winchester? You just see </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> helpless and defenseless on the ground and don't first check that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>me? Not only are you old, but you're apparently getting fucking stupid, too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Claire," Kaia says sharply, eyes narrowing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claire glances between Kaia and Dean in open disbelief. "Oh, do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell me you went and bonded with him. Dean can't be your favorite. Kaia, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>can't. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I mean, I can't actually tell you why, but I'm serious. Have you hung out with Sam? We can like Sam." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not everyone meets a group of people and automatically picks out favorites, Claire, that's just you," Kaia tells her. She pauses for a moment, then stuffs her hands in her hoodie pocket, arching an eyebrow. "But, if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it would be Dean." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"God, you have such shit taste in people." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I chose you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, that's kinda my point," Claire mutters, wrinkling her nose. She sighs and reaches out, wriggling her fingers to get Kaia to come closer, and then they're facing Cas. "Here. I mean, well, you already met her or whatever, but not as...you know." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hello, Kaia," Cas says, his lips twitching when Kaia blinks at him in visible confusion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claire snorts and elbows Kaia in the side. "It's a long story. I was planning to bring you along eventually, so it's a little bit of an inside joke." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I insisted she bring you along," Cas murmurs. "I did not wish for her to keep secrets from you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He didn't really get our system," Claire says, sharing a look with Kaia, rolling her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia huffs a quiet, weak laugh. "That's okay. Dean didn't really get it either. I didn't tell Sam and Eileen, by the way. They just—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I know," Claire cuts in quickly, nodding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Actually," Sam calls out, hovering a little closer with Eileen, "if anyone could tell me why the string of murders and kidnappings made any sense, that would be really freaking delightful. It has been driving me absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>nuts."</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas steps forward with a weary sigh. "The victims were generally someone I once knew or interacted with. Alvigor was under the impression that he could locate me using them, but I am often...away. He traveled places I've been in the past and mocked me by killing people I've interacted with by burning their eyes out, trying to get my attention. He found us here because I once worked with a man named Alex Phillips, and that was his next target. As I understand it, a lot of people paid the cost of me being so private with their lives. I am unsure why some lived. Before this, the woman you were telling me about, that was Nora. She was my old superior at a gas-n-sip I worked at when I was a human. She has a daughter. Is she—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"She's fine, Cas," Sam says quickly. "She made it out for some reason. Don't—it's not your fault. I just wanted to know, but let's just—we'll worry about it later. First, you're </span>
  <em>
    <span>back. </span>
  </em>
  <span>How—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah," Cas croaks, getting that slightly wide-eyed, 'oh, this isn't going to go well' look that Dean can pick up on from the way his throat bobs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes Dean a second. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Actually, it's taken him quite a long time. For a moment, his stomach just drops right out from underneath him. It falls away, leaving him with this weightless, queasy sensation that makes him think he's about to hurl all over everyone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because Claire has been meeting up with some man for </span>
  <em>
    <span>months, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and—and who else could it be?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Tell me you're joking," Dean says, and he's surprised by how even his voice escapes him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas flicks his gaze to him, then audibly exhales, shifting a little restlessly. "Dean…" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Tell me," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean grits out, "that you have not been back for months, but you never thought to call, or stop by, or—or—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I...haven't been, not exactly," Cas says slowly, watching him as warily as he ever has. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean thinks his eye might have just twitched. "You have been visiting Claire for </span>
  <em>
    <span>months, </span>
  </em>
  <span>haven't you?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Cas answers promptly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How many?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dean." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"How many?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Six," Claire snaps, her voice hard and accusing as she glares right at Dean, "and what is it to you? Lay off of him. You don't know shit about shit, so—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Claire," Cas says, shaking his head sharply, and she settles down just enough to be quiet while still glaring at Dean as if he's personally offended her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean takes a moment, reaching up to palm his mouth, staring at Cas and trying to convince himself that people who love each other don't punch each other in the face. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>if there would be a time for it… Jesus Christ, this is worse than anything else. This is—Cas is literally the worst person. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Let me make sure I have all the facts," Dean says finally. "You have been back for—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I have not technically—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, shut the fuck up. I swear on my life, shut the fuck up. You have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>around </span>
  </em>
  <span>for six months, at least. You've been out of the Empty for </span>
  <em>
    <span>six months. </span>
  </em>
  <span>In these six months, you didn't call. You didn't reach out. You didn't come by and let anyone know that you were fine, not Sam, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We thought you were fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you piece of shit!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey!" Claire snarls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean points at her harshly. "Stay the fuck out of this, Claire. This does not concern you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It doesn't concern </span>
  <em>
    <span>you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>either!" Claire argues loudly, eyes flashing with signs of approaching danger. She marches right up to him. "What he does isn't automatically </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>business, Dean!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Claire, Dean, stop it," Cas snaps, reaching out to grab Claire's shoulder and tug her back. She glares at him and wrenches her shoulder from his hand, but she does cross her arms and clench her jaw, so Dean assumes that she's going to shut up now. Cas heaves a sigh. "I'm aware that this is...frustrating, but I had my reasons. I did… Well, I actually did visit you and Sam once, and you both seemed fine. Happy, even. I left you to it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam smacks his forehead. "Oh, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiot." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Happy," Dean echoes flatly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You were eating pie," Cas murmurs. "I understand that happiness is your natural state while doing so, but you seemed—you both seemed so settled." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean whirls around and paces away, a hot pulse of anger flaring in his chest, making his head throb. This all makes more and more sense by the passing second. Why Dean was the one Claire told Kaia to notify if things went wrong—not anyone else, Dean, because this is Cas. Why Claire has been keeping this from Kaia to begin with—it's not exactly her secret to tell, and anyway, of course she would go visit Cas if the option was there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing is, Dean is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious </span>
  </em>
  <span>about this that he feels like he's about to burst. The audacity of Cas to come back to life—yet again—and not immediately call Dean first thing is… It's just fucked up. Within the last six months, Dean has shed so many goddamn tears for his dead best friend that he thinks he could drown the world in them, and for what? Why? Cas </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn't </span>
  </em>
  <span>dead, not at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean doesn't think he's ever felt as stupid as he does in this moment. He doesn't think he's ever felt this angry, or confused, or conflicted. He also doesn't think he's ever felt so much at once and still been as completely and utterly </span>
  <em>
    <span>relieved </span>
  </em>
  <span>as he is right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wheels around and marches back towards everyone, only for Sam to catch him by the shoulders and stare at him with wide eyes, shaking his head. It's at this moment that Dean realizes he's been cursing up a storm and is stomping towards Cas with clenched fists and threats on his tongue. It's a little ridiculous for Sam to be worried about this. He wouldn't actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cas, not really, this is just his natural reaction to the shocking ordeal he's in now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You stupid, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid </span>
  </em>
  <span>son of a bitch, Cas," Dean snarls at him, shoving Sam's arm away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Happy? </span>
  </em>
  <span>You think I was ever—fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you </span>
  <em>
    <span>so fucking much. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You're the worst person I know. You're the shittiest best friend anyone could ask for. You're goddamn stupid and—and </span>
  <em>
    <span>cruel." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This gets mixed results. Sam winces—he's very much a neutral party to all of this, likely because someone has to be. Eileen is squinting, trying to read his lips, pursing her lips in thought when she does. Kaia is watching Dean sadly, something knowing and understanding in her eyes that doesn't really make sense. Claire is furious all over again, surging forward to probably beat Dean's ass, or try to, and she's halted by Kaia's firm grip on her elbow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas just flinches, his gaze averted, his shoulders one tense line like they're his last line of defense. He doesn't so much as twitch when Dean pushes past Sam's arm and barrels right into him, but that's probably because it takes him a second to realize he's being hugged and not punched. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All the air in Dean's lungs escape him in one large </span>
  <em>
    <span>whoosh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he's so pissed off that he feels like he could burn the world down, but Cas is here. He's here, and maybe he's so dumb and so cruel, but Dean will gladly take it over the alternative. It's so much better than Cas being dead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas does not hug him back, which is rude as fuck, but whatever. Dean does not require participation for this. It's enough just to feel Cas' shoulders beneath his hands, the warmth of his body seeping into Dean's skin, the heavy thudding of his heart against Dean's own. He's alive, he's alive, he's alive and he's back, and whether that's been true for six months or six seconds, Dean's never going to be able to escape the crushing sensation of being </span>
  <em>
    <span>thankful. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Dean jerks back a second later, Cas looks so startled that it would be comical under any other circumstances. For a second, they just blink at each other from up close, and yes, Dean is still so angry that he wants to punch things, but now would probably be a good time to let Cas know that he's not gonna be happy without him. That seems like a pretty important thing to do. He opens his mouth to do just that when—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Castiel." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And there's Jack, which Dean isn't at all expecting. He's standing right in the middle of the room, staring around at everyone with an incredibly patient look on his face. Cas sighs softly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Jack!" Sam exclaims, sounding genuinely happy, his eyes lighting up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're all injured," Jack interrupts, lips tipping down into a small frown. He pauses, then shakes his head. "Of course you are." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's a fucking family reunion," Claire says dryly, heaving a sigh. "Wonderful. Marvelous. My day absolutely could not get any worse." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas clears his throat, taking a step away from Dean, towards Jack. "It's about to." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, I imagine it is," Jack agrees, lips tipping down more when he looks at Cas. "I told you not to do this, Castiel. I trusted you not to." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'd apologize, but…" Cas gives a shrug, a little sheepish about it. "I stayed out of the way, mostly."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack's smile is small and fleeting. "I will not say that I am surprised. You do not listen to anyone." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No," Cas agrees, "I don't." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What the fuck is going on?" Dean asks, suspicious in seconds. A rebellious Castiel isn't very new or surprising, but for him to rebel against </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jack </span>
  </em>
  <span>is...well, it's a little unexpected. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He is not supposed to be here. We are not supposed to interfere," Jack says, sending Cas a rather pointed look for a three year old. Cas doesn't look very apologetic, and Jack's smiling a little again. He blinks, and Cas is suddenly completely healed, his clothes fixed and not a drop of blood on him. "This isn't your first time, I assume." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sixth," Cas admits. "Once a month. I just visited Claire, Jack, that's all. No one else." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It seems like everyone else," Jack points out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas sighs again. "That was not my fault." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I believe you." Jack is silent for a long beat, glancing around. His face softens, and he lifts his hand in his customary, little awkward wave. "It is very good to see everyone. Hello." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's a few mumbled greetings, sort of awkward because they're all just standing in the aftermath of being kidnapped and nothing is making sense. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I never interfered," Cas murmurs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Again, Jack says, "I believe you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do we—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, we must go now." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hold the fuck up," Dean blurts out, moving forward to stare between Cas and Jack with mounting confusion and a vague sense of dread. "Go </span>
  <em>
    <span>where?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Heaven," Jack replies calmly, blinking at him. He tilts his head, just a little. "That is where Castiel is supposed to be at the moment. He has apparently been...sneaking out." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right, of course. Sure, that makes sense. There's something very bizarre about the fact that Cas has apparently been sneaking out of Heaven the way a teenager sneaks out of their houses at night to go to parties, especially when his son is sort of </span>
  <em>
    <span>God. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I need—I really need someone to explain to me what's going on," Dean says, his voice a little strained. He turns to Cas helplessly. "Dude, seriously, what the fuck?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas takes a deep breath, then slowly releases it. "I was in the Empty until Jack retrieved me. It was his only interference. He asked for help with the reconstruction of Heaven, which I provided. I was told that I could not return to Earth and interfere, which I technically did not. I simply...visited." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean pauses to consider this for a while, then he hesitantly nods. "Right, so you're like—well, just like any other angel, I reckon." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And Heaven is where you're supposed to be." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay, so—so you're not dead anymore, but you sort of...are? And you can't actually come back." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas swallows and slowly nods. "Yes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Okay, so maybe Cas isn't the </span><em><span>worst </span></em><span>person</span> <span>in the world. He's got one kid up in Heaven and one down on Earth, so it makes sense that he rebels against one for the other with good intentions. He's just a natural rebel, so he can't help it. He's such a shitty angel—can't take orders, never could, probably never will—but Dean means it as a compliment. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No wonder he didn't visit. He probably felt like he couldn't. What good would it do? He can't stay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh. Cas </span>
  <em>
    <span>can't stay. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because of course he can't, because why would Dean get to have this? This is like dangling food in front of a starving animal with all intentions of never letting it have a bite. There Cas is, right in front of him, and Dean can't have him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Castiel," Jack says softly, "it's time to go. It's getting too close." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know," Cas murmurs. "I just—I understand, but I will say goodbye, at least." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack's eyebrows pinch tighter together with concern, but he nods. "Be quick. I cannot restore it if it is lost, and you're in pain—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I've dealt with worse," Cas says dryly, then he sighs and swivels to Claire. "You will be okay." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I will be okay," Claire repeats, sounding absolutely furious about it. "You're not—I won't see you again, will I? This is—this is it?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas watches her carefully. "Yes. I am sorry, Claire. Promise me you will not do anything stupid." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fuck off, you're not my real dad," Claire rasps, then moves forward to hug him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know," Cas tells her and pats her shoulder a little awkwardly. He looks at Kaia as Claire pulls away with a huff, scowling, even with suspiciously bright eyes. "I can trust that you'll look after her." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia nods. "Yeah, of course. She's—I've got her." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Stop it," Dean cuts in as soon as Cas turns towards Sam. "Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jack, why can't he—why are you doing this? You wouldn't—this isn't right, kid. You know this isn't right." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack opens his mouth, then closes it, glancing at Cas cautiously. When Cas nods, Jack exhales. "I understand your frustration, Dean, but this isn't something I'm enjoying either. Before Castiel died, his grace was waning. Getting him out of the Empty was not as simple as you would think, even for me. It's very old and very...stubborn. It feels that it has a claim on Castiel. It took some time and effort, but I eventually brought him home. The problem is, I had to tie Castiel's grace in with Heaven. The longer he is away from it, the more he loses. With time, he will lose it all and be human, unable to return until he died, and he would not return as an angel." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It ensures that I will never return to the Empty in any scenario," Cas says, as if that makes it any better, which it does not. This fucking sucks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean falls silent, flipping through a variety of emotions so quickly that he doesn't know what to do with them. His mind chases itself in circles as Cas and Sam speak to each other, as they say their goodbyes, and Dean stares down at the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing is, Cas likes humans. He likes humans </span>
  <em>
    <span>as an angel. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Being an angel is a part of who he is. He's not that great at it, not as Chuck originally designed, but Dean's convinced that he's the best out of them all. Cas deserves his grace, deserves being a part of Heaven, deserves to be at peace away from Earth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It would be the most selfish thing he has ever done to open his mouth and ask Cas to give all that up and stay. Dean can't do that. He can't beg Cas to lose so much, just for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cas had said to him, not knowing that Dean would one day look at him with love and long to do something so selfish that he hates himself for it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he won't. Of course he won't. Dean would never. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>can't. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It is because he loves Cas that he can't and won't, even as it is because he loves Cas that he has never ached to do anything more. He wants Cas to be happy. Cas is an angel of the Lord; that's his whole thing, and even if the Lord is a piece of shit, Cas is still happy being an angel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's a terrible angel and such a good one that there needs to be more like him. Dean can't reach out and ask to take that away. He alone can't be worth that, not when Cas is saying his goodbyes to everyone, because no one else is. Maybe he doesn't get a choice in loving Dean Winchester, but he can choose to be an angel, and he deserves to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That being said, Dean can recall in stark clarity the precise way in which his heart shattered when Cas died right in front of him. Seeing him die is always terrifying, is always gut-wrenching and horrible, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>beats that one time where Cas first confessed his love before going. It was such a horrible thing to do to Dean, an unusually cruel thing, because it made it hurt all that much more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's still so </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry </span>
  </em>
  <span>about it, about everything, about the injustice and tragedy of it all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That's why, when Cas finally stops in front of him, dead last, Dean says, "I never answered you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dean," Cas murmurs, already knowing exactly what he's referencing, "there is no need to talk about this. I will be going soon, and I do not wish to discuss it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They're surrounded by their family, all of which observe them with keen eyes. The tension is palpable in the air between them, and it's not warm and intimate, as it should be. There's an audience. The atmosphere is cold. Everything feels wrong, all of it, and Dean doesn't care. He couldn't care less. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly want to talk about it when </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>brought it up, but I didn't get a choice in the matter, did I?" Dean points out, a little bitter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas averts his eyes. "I apologize. It was necessary to save your life, or I—I would never have done it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You think that's helping your case, man?" Dean asks incredulously. He huffs and crosses his arms, scowling. "You're not a coward, Cas. I know you're not. Why the fuck didn't you say it </span>
  <em>
    <span>before?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"In this, there was some cowardice." Cas glances back at him, the skin around his eyes strained. "I was...scared. Admittedly, it was more than just that. I never endeavored to make you uncomfortable." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, you fucked that up," Dean says bluntly, ignoring it when Cas lowers his gaze. "I've been nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>but </span>
  </em>
  <span>uncomfortable since that moment. You wanna know why?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not particularly." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, I'm gonna tell you anyway. See, you could say I've been pretty fucking tense ever since, because you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gone. Not coming back." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas looks at him again. "Dean, you need not feel guilty. I am—it doesn't matter." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It feels like it does," Dean says quietly, his arms dropping to his sides limply, all the fighting going out of him like a soldier dropping their weapons because they know the war is already lost. "Cas, I'm so </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry </span>
  </em>
  <span>at you, man. I just—I'm—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, well, you will have to survive the discomfort for a moment," Cas cuts in, standing up a little taller. He clears his throat. "I'm not leaving without a proper goodbye first, so...deal with it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean snorts weakly. "Deal with it, huh?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Cas says very seriously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright," Dean murmurs, "come on, get in here." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas does immediately, no hesitation, and it's not really inappropriate or anything. They've hugged a lot of times, more than Dean has ever hugged another man who isn't his brother. This isn't very different from the way they've done it before, and Cas is being very good. Dean doesn't know if he'd be able to hold back in his position—he'd try to cop a feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>at least, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but that's because he's an asshole. Cas is also an asshole, but his heart is golden. Generally. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Cas pulls back and steps away, there is just the smallest tinge of red slashed across his cheekbones, spreading to the very tip of his nose. He looks ridiculous. It's a </span>
  <em>
    <span>blush. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean doesn't think he's ever seen that before, and he's immediately fascinated and delighted by it in equal measure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Goodbye, Dean," Cas says, yet again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Dean's stomach just </span>
  <em>
    <span>lurches. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Every single part of him seems to flinch and recoil all at once, as if stung, as if under attack. He's never retreated into his own head so fast before in his life. His ears ring, so he feels more than hears his breath hitch, and he knows that this is going to be messy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as Cas is gone, Dean's gonna lose it. He just </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. He can feel it, a soul-deep understanding that he's about to be a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>wreck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and there's not a goddamn thing he can do about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Listen, Dean knows he doesn't have the best luck in life. A lot of terrible things happen to him, but this just might take the cake because it's happening </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and this type of hopeless, world-ending terror and pain isn't supposed to happen anymore. It's unfair. They've already done so much, </span>
  <em>
    <span>given</span>
  </em>
  <span> so much, and Dean's not asking for a whole lot here. He just wants—he wants— </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean holds his breath until it starts to burn in his chest, then releases it and does something very stupid immediately after. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is very stupid for two reasons. One, he's never kissed another man before and maybe the first time shouldn't be in front of a whole room of people who don't know that he watches gay porn on occasion now and likely have no idea he's actually armored with the knowledge that he's in love with his best friend. Two, Cas is still going to leave and this isn't going to make it any easier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Self-destructive behavior is a black hole, however, and Dean hasn't found an exit since he entered it a very, very long time ago. So, he stumbles forward (actually stumbles, because he's freaking the fuck out a little), and he catches Cas' face in his hands, kissing him before the wrinkle of confusion between his eyebrows can even fully form. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Surface level, kissing a man isn't so different than kissing anyone else. Different features and a different feel, sure, but that's about it. Really, it's just two mouths meeting, simple as that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Digging past that surface, however, it's so bad. It's the worst thing that's ever happened to Dean, because it is so spectacularly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not bad </span>
  </em>
  <span>at all. It's very good, in fact. Well, not right from the start. Cas goes very still and doesn't react at all to begin with, but Dean prides himself on knowing how to kiss—he's done it enough, and women usually like it a lot during sex, so he made sure he knew what the fuck he was doing. It comes in handy now, because he coaxes and coaxes, and then, finally, Cas is kissing him back, slow and deep and unfortunately good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean is devastated by this, obviously, because now he doesn't know how the fuck he's supposed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It's a little bit just like them. A shaky start, but once they're in, they're not budging. There are countless reasons why it shouldn't work, the kissing as well as just </span>
  <em>
    <span>them, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and defiantly, it does anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Distantly, he's pretty sure that he could go make out with some random dude and it wouldn't be as good as this is. It wouldn't be </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks, but it wouldn't make him shake. It wouldn't make him feel like the world is tilting under his feet. It wouldn't make his heart race, or make his mind go silent, or make his soul just fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>exhale, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or whatever the fuck Kaia said. No, this is all Cas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas had slipped him tongue approximately three seconds after he got with the program and got involved, which was bold of him, but Dean is immensely proud of him and enjoying it. However, this makes it even more difficult to get his wits about him and not be a selfish dick. He's more than fine with standing here and doing this forever, but Cas is on a time limit. The longer he's here, the higher the risk of him losing his grace is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes a deep plunge into some strength Dean didn't even know he had to turn his head, breaking the kiss and opening his eyes. The first thing he sees it Jack with his head tilted, and he decides to just not look at anyone ever again. Blinking rapidly, he clears his throat and leans back, working up to eventually taking a step back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas sways towards him, then blinks and jolts like he's been slapped in the face. He looks it, too. That gobsmacked look like he cannot believe what just happened actually happened, even though he was most certainly there for it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Dean says, his voice cracking. He clears his throat again. "So, uh, about what you said before. I never answered, but...yeah. Yeah, Cas, me too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Elaborate," Cas breathes out, staring at him with parted lips and bright eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean coughs. "It's gonna embarrass us both if I go into detail, dude, just so you're aware." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't care." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right, okay, well… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, </span>
  </em>
  <span>me too. That's all there is to it, man. You thought you were the only one? Half the situations we ended up in where you were not being very subtle at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I was right there with you. Do you think I'm the type who does some of the shit I've done for you just for </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Cas says instantly. "You're a good man." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But I wouldn't feel for them the way I do you, Cas. It's just—it's different. I'm in just as deep as you are," Dean tells him with a helpless shrug. "I didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be, but I'm guessing you didn't either. You got into so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>trouble </span>
  </em>
  <span>for it, dude. And, well, it wasn't like it was a walk in the park for me either. Here we are anyway, and yeah...me too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Say it," Cas tells him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. "I'm not doing that. This is gonna hurt like a bitch anyway, and I'm not going to make it worse. That'll make it worse." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas squints at him. "Because I'm leaving?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right," Dean agrees, his voice hollow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Cas stares at him for a moment longer, then abruptly turns around to face his son. "Jack." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know," Jack says, a smile playing around the corner of his lips. "I already know, Castiel. It will feel like seconds for me. You know how time works in Heaven. Do what you must. Be...happy." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," Cas whispers, "and I'm sorry." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack just gives a little shrug. "There is no need to say that. I'll see you all soon enough." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas nods and snaps his head around, eyes narrowed in concentration. He focuses on Claire, moving over to her and draping his large hand right over her head. She looks offended by this action, but then she slams her eyes shut when Cas' eyes start to glow. Previously, she'd been slumping a little and covered in bruises and blood. After, she's clean and has no strain in her body at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He proceeds to do this for Sam and Eileen as well, seeing as they also accumulated bruises and some light injuries from fighting Alvigor. Kaia is unharmed, and the only problem Dean has is the tiny cuts on his throat, smeared with his dried blood. He's forgotten it entirely until Cas is suddenly standing right in front of him and reaching out, his intentions very clear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean smack his hand away and backs up. "What the fuck are you doing?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Healing you," Cas replies calmly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, you're not." Dean stubbornly leans back further, clenching his jaw when Cas narrows his eyes. Oh, this is going to be a fight. Fine. "You're gonna turn your ass right back around and go to Heaven. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That's </span>
  </em>
  <span>what you're gonna do." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas shakes his head. "No, I'm not." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're an angel." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"For the moment." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>being an angel." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I like you more." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean sputters, smacking Cas' hand away again, a little more firmly this time. "Okay, casanova, that's real fucking sweet, but I—Cas, you can't just—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I can do whatever I like," Cas interrupts sharply, arching an eyebrow, "and you can't stop me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Don't </span>
  </em>
  <span>do this," Dean grits out, though his heart is clenching in his chest as his penance. Absolutely everything within him wants to give in. "Don't give up everything just for—for </span>
  <em>
    <span>me." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas stares at him for a beat, then frowns. "Dean, I considered myself giving up everything for you by </span>
  <em>
    <span>going. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I was only going to go because that's what I assumed you wanted. It apparently is not. If I am to stay, it is for me, not for you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh," Dean says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Now, hold still. I have very little grace left. I have healed many people in my time, and perhaps this is sentimental, but I would like you to be my last," Cas tells him, holding his gaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This, for some reason, flusters Dean. "Uh, right. I mean, yeah, that's—okay, sure." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas' lips curl up, just a little, and then his fingers brush Dean's forehead, unnecessarily gentle. Dean watches Cas' eyes glow for what seems to be the last time, flickering before going out. He presses his lips into a thin line, exhaling harshly and taking a firm step back, then he blinks rapidly. It seems like he needs a moment to adjust, and Dean gives it to him. He can't imagine what that's like. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a long beat of silence, Sam suddenly says, "Oh, where did Jack go? He's just </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone."</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas takes a steadying breath, clearing his throat and turning around to face Sam. "Yes, he would be. He does not interfere with humans." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And you're…" Sam trails off, watching him warily. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Cas confirms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hurts?" Sam asks in concern. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That is part of the human experience," Cas murmurs. "There's always so much pain." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam grimaces. "Yeah, that's—that's true. But you're, uh, okay with it?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Cas answers easily. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay, great," Sam says, releasing a deep sigh of relief. In the next second, he's grinning. "So you're staying? You're back? For good this time?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I am," Cas tells him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>God,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sam blurts out, then makes a complicated face. "Or, well, Jack. Whatever. Anyway, this is great. Dean's been miserable without you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thanks for that, Sam," Dean mutters. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas almost immediately swivels back towards him, pinning him with a steady gaze. "I am no longer leaving. Say it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Promise me you're not gonna die first." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I can't actually promise you that, and you know it, but I will do my best. Now, say it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Bossy." Dean holds his hands up in surrender when Cas narrows his eyes at him. "Alright, cool your jets. You don't have to be so pushy about it. I already </span>
  <em>
    <span>do, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and you know I do…" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas just stares at him, waiting, and Dean lowers his hands, chewing the inside of his bottom lip. He's still reeling, just a little, from the fact that Cas is </span>
  <em>
    <span>here, </span>
  </em>
  <span>let alone that he's just given up his grace to stay. He's just gonna be alive and here now, all the time? He's not leaving? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is new. It's good, obviously, but it's new. It's pretty much the only thing he's needed in this new age of freedom, and now that he's gotten it, he doesn't know what to do with it. He doesn't really know where to go from here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kissing was nice. They could do that again. Dean's fine with just doing that for the rest of their lives—their seemingly long, yet considerably short lives as humans, because that's what they are. It's going to be such an improvement to what his life has been like since Cas left it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still, this first. Love. That part. Confessing it and saying it out loud, no shame in it. And Dean's not ashamed, not really, because he's had a lot of time to wish that he had the chance before it was too late, and he has the chance now. He's stupid, but not stupid enough to waste the gift that this is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's just… Dean's not really great with saying it. He doesn't say it to basically anyone, not even Sam, who he unquestionably loves more than literally everyone else in the world. Saying it is vulnerability. Saying it is showing fear, showing he has something to lose, and he's not brave like that, not really. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Cas is asking, and he deserves to hear it. Dean isn't going to be able to say it every day, but he can show it. He's good at showing it, because that's how he says it, and that's why everyone knows. Just, sometimes, people need to hear it, too. Cas clearly does, and this is one of the things that Dean wished he had the time to tell him before he was gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet, here he is, back again despite all the reasons it should be impossible, and Dean opens his mouth to say it, to whisper, "I love you too, man. Of course I do. I always fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>did." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas pauses and processes that for just a second, and then he's surging forward to kiss Dean again, which is pretty great, actually. Dean thinks he might be able to say it every day, after all, if it leads to this. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam's not really happy about his laptop when Dean tells him, but Eileen just laughs at his scowl until it relaxes. She's the one who leaves to go get the hard drive from Kaia, and Sam hangs back with Dean. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't say whatever you're about to say," Dean tells Sam almost immediately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't know what you think I'm going to say," Sam replies in amusement, "but it isn't anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I mean, I'm happy for you, Dean." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean scowls. "Shut up, Sam." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam does not shut up. "How long have you known?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"For about three months," Dean mumbles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wait, seriously?" Sam's head whips around towards him, eyes going wide. "You figured it out </span>
  <em>
    <span>after </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cas died? And it took </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>long?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well...yeah," Dean snaps. "What, did you know?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course I knew!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I—you're joking." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm really not." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How long have </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>known?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh…" Sam makes a face, reaching up to scratch his eyebrow, clearing his throat. "I mean, I've had my suspicions ever since you got back from Purgatory. You were pretty messed up over him. But...I guess I really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>knew for sure when he died as Jack was being born. We got into that argument, remember, cause you wanted to kill Jack? You just—you sort of implied that I'd be alright with Cas being dead in a way that you never would be." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dude, you know I didn't mean it like that," Dean mutters with a grimace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, you did, and you were right." Sam looks at him steadily, his smile soft and a little sad. "Don't get me wrong, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>love Cas, and I hate him being gone. But Dean, it's not the same as you. It never was. And that's how I knew. I can't believe you </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn't." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean huffs. "You know I'm not...good with shit like that, Sam. Why didn't you say anything?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you kidding?" Sam snorts and shakes his head at him. "First of all, it isn't my responsibility to tell you what you feel, not about things like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Second, you would have bitten my head off if I ever tried. I wasn't getting involved, or I tried not to. Sometimes it was physically painful not to mention it, but...well, I figured you just had some issues 'cause of Dad. He threw around </span>
  <em>
    <span>gay </span>
  </em>
  <span>like it was an insult and was always riding your ass about being a man. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong, </span>
  </em>
  <span>obviously, but I've never managed to make you see that before, so I figured I wouldn't this time. I knew you had to work it out yourself." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm not." Dean clears his throat. "Gay, I mean. I'm not. I still—dude, I haven't been faking all these years or anything. I really do like chicks." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam shrugs. "I wasn't saying you were. Sexuality is pretty fluid, ya know. That's what Eileen says." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sure she has some thoughts on it," Dean says, lips twitching of their own accord. Eileen's opinions on things are generally pretty wonderful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, plenty. She's into women, too," Sam tells him, shrugging again when Dean blinks at him. "I know. She points out attractive girls and wants me to look at them with her." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean opens his mouth, then closes it, then lets out a shaky laugh. "That's the most </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eileen </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing I've ever heard of. Jesus Christ." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right?" Sam asks with a besotted grin. After a moment of silence, his smile slips and he glances at Dean a little cautiously. "Do you...have issues because of Dad? I mean, about the being into dudes thing, not the other things. I know about those."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean holds his breath for a moment, then releases a slow exhale and says, "Yeah." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Sam looks pretty fucking upset about this, which isn't ideal, but he thankfully doesn't launch into a speech. "Anything I can do?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nah," Dean murmurs, because there really </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn't </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything Sam can do. This is something Dean has to handle. Cas can help, because it'll be Cas he's going to be fucking at some point, maybe, hopefully. He's both terrified and stupidly eager about the idea of it. But, as for Sam, he can't really do much. The fact that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> do something, if he could, is more than enough. "You've done plenty already." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam hums and bobs his head. He reaches over and claps Dean on the shoulder. "Well, you know I'm supportive or whatever. And, like I said before, I really am happy for you. Cas, too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thanks, Sammy," Dean says, then gives him a rough shove. "Now get the fuck away from me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Happy to, asshole," Sam tells him, then wanders off towards his girlfriend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas is right next to Dean in what feels like seconds, leaning up against Baby, their shoulders pressed together. "Eileen gave me a high five and claimed we hit the jackpot with the Winchesters." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sounds like her." Dean shakes his head in amusement and turns to look at Cas, who is already staring at him. "She got lucky." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So did I," Cas murmurs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean blows out a deep breath. "We're gonna fight a lot. You know that, don't you?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm gonna be an asshole. Maybe you've missed it all these years, but…" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I assure you, I have not missed it," Cas says, sending him a pointed look. Rude. "Perhaps that is part of your charm. I am not innocent in this regard either, if you didn't know." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh no, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean assures him, snorting when Cas squints at him in offense. "Also, you're kinda pissy when you don't get your way, and you're not gonna get your way with me all the time." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I would hope not," Cas murmurs, arching an eyebrow. "That wouldn't be very entertaining for either of us." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm not very affectionate either. I mean, sex is one thing, and like...in private, but in public? Well, it can't hurt or anything, but I'm not big on it. There's a time and a place, and I don't want my, uh...my relationship, or whatever, where people can see it. Home is fine, but—well. And when we're working, we're </span>
  <em>
    <span>working, </span>
  </em>
  <span>except for—uh, I'm not really sure what I want, upon reflection." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You don't need to complicate it. I have no intentions of ravishing you in public." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean busts out laughing at Cas' dry tone, as well as his wordage. "Ravishing? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ravishing? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cas, who the fuck says things like that?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I do, apparently," Cas says, watching him laugh with a small, pleased smile. It becomes immediately clear that he was just trying to make Dean laugh to start with, and that's grossly sweet in the best and worst way because </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cas really loves him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, man," Dean says weakly. He fiddles with the front of his flannel that he got back from Kaia, tugging at one of the loose buttons as he clears his throat and side-eyes Cas. "Listen, I'm—I'm fickle. Choosey. I'm stubborn and kinda stupid and not great at...talking. I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>good at taking good things in my life and fucking 'em up, and you're a real good thing, so uh...don't let me, okay?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas' eyes soften, and oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he's going to get away with so much shit with eyes like his. Goddammit. Fucking hell. "Dean, you are remarkably lenient to a lot of things. Stubborn is not a bad thing. You have never been and never will be stupid. Talking isn't necessarily your favorite thing to do, but when it comes time, you know what to say. You do not ruin everything you touch, but even if you did, I would still be here. You could ruin me, and I would stay for as long as you wanted me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Better to be miserable with me than without, huh?" Dean croaks, swallowing thickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Cas answers without hesitation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean gives a weak laugh. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But I want—I want it to work. Us. I want us to work out, man." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay," Cas says simply. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. Okay." Dean relaxes a little, still fiddling with his button, scuffing his boot back and forth in the dirt in front of him. He presses in and to the left, drags back, then repeats the process to the right. It takes him a while to see it, mostly because he's been subconsciously doing it, but it looks to be in the shape of a heart. His face goes hot immediately, and he tucks his foot behind his leg, even if he leaves the dirt the way it is. "Hey, Cas?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas looks over at him, blinking. "Hm?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"For what?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Coming back," Dean whispers. He swallows and flicks his gaze over Cas' face. "And staying. I know you said you did it for you, but it's—that's what I've wanted ever since you left. So, uh, thanks." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dean," Cas murmurs, "that's not necessary." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean gives a small shrug, making their arms brush together. "Yeah, but still. Thanks." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fine." Cas pauses, searching his face now, and his scrutiny has no business being so intense. Dean's a little breathless from it, like he always has been. "I should thank you, then, for loving me back." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Maybe I loved you first," Dean suggests, the words rolling off his tongue far easier than he expected them to. Simple honesty. Love. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hi, I love you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He could do that every single day. He just might.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas looks pleased, eyes flooding with warmth, lips curling up into a smile. "Maybe," he says, not sounding like he believes it at all, even if it is a nice thought all the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Last chance to back out and get away as far away from me as possible," Dean mumbles, the world seeming to buzz like bees in the distance, so easily ignored, not worth focusing on. "Wouldn't blame you if you wanted to, I'll admit." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I have never wanted to do anything less, and I will never want to," Cas tells him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean exhales softly and says, "Your mistake," before leaning over to kiss him, because they're doing this sort of thing now, and he kind of always wants to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He figures it's perfectly fine because they're just standing out here in the open, but no one is actually paying attention. He doesn't really think it'll go anywhere, yet it very quickly does. Cas curls into him almost instantly, putting a hand on his neck and moving around to lean against him from the front. He's practically pinning him up against Baby, and he kisses Dean with intent, with purpose, as if he's never going to get another opportunity, even if they've established that they'll have plenty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's intense for literally no reason, and Dean gets the feeling that Cas is just </span>
  <em>
    <span>like that, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and that this is how it's always going to be. He honestly, truly would not have it any other way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Cas, save that shit for the fucking bedroom and come say bye to me!" Claire shouts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Cas does (regretfully) pull away, Dean's head is spinning a little. He feels like he imagines he would if he just got a thousand tiny shocks all over his body, trembles and quivers and the ridiculous clench-and-release of tension over and over. He blinks, then licks his lips and clears his throat, giving Cas a little shove to push him away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Go say bye," he mutters. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay, Dean," Cas says, lips twitching as he turns and goes, looking very pleased with himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn't surprise him when Kaia passes by Cas on the way to Claire to come stand by Dean, her hands shoved inside her hoodie pocket. He glances at her, feeling a little ridiculous, but she doesn't make a joke or anything. She just leans up against Baby beside him, watching Claire and Cas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean's used to Kaia's silences by now. They're comfortable. He knows she'll talk if she wants to, just like he knows she won't if she doesn't. He's not going to push her. He doubts this is the last time he'll see her or Claire, and he can't help but be glad of that fact. He likes them. They're good women, good Hunters, and he wants a good life for them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't hold it against her," Kaia eventually says, glancing over at him. When he raises his eyebrows, she smiles slightly. "Claire is… Well, she's pretty complicated, but she cares about Cas. A lot. If you're my favorite, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he's </span>
  </em>
  <span>hers. She just doesn't want him to get hurt, that's all." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, I know," Dean assures her. "It's fine. Ya know, I'm not really surprised or anything." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know you said we don't always get a thank you, but...thank you, Dean," Kaia murmurs, watching him seriously, her smile soft. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean waves her off. "Ah, don't say that. There's no need to thank me. You did just as much. Sam, Cas, and Eileen, too. Claire as well. A group effort, really, so it's not a big deal." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but that's not the only thing I'm talking about," Kaia tells him sincerely. "You're about as good as taking praise and compliments as Claire is, which is to say that you're not. At all." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not my specialty, that's true," Dean agrees. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaia's smile grows, just a little. "You helped </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>a lot. Not just with the case, but with...everything. I think I would have gone crazy without you these past few days, actually. So, yeah, thank you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah, it ain't no skin off my teeth. Anytime," Dean mutters, knocking his shoulder into hers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They fall silent again, comfortable and warm, watching Cas and Claire be so very different and so very important to one another. And Dean thinks, strangely enough, that he and Kaia are something a little like that, too. It's a nice thought. A happy one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So," Kaia says, after a while, a smile shining from her eyes, "he's your person, huh?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Dean says softly, fondly, "he's my person." </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have this thing for parallels, so the way Destiel and Dreamhunter are paralleled really soothes my soul. Dean and Claire are obviously parallels, but I doubted that Cas and Kaia were, at first. After doing some deep thinking about it, they actually are, and it's pretty delightful. </p><p>Anyway, this was just for fun. I wanted to write a case fic and have 2 things: A) Dean and Kaia bonding, because I feel like it's not often explored in fics the way Cas and Claire bonding is (even tho Kaia is Cas' parallel the way Claire is Dean's, so her and Dean would get on like a house on fire, but anyway), and B) Destiel reunion again, because I'm a sucker for those. </p><p>Did I play fast and loose with Heaven and grace and demons being chaotic evil but in a fun way? Yeah, but hey, it was fun. </p><p>Also—Jim Rockford is a reference from the show itself from earlier seasons. It means that the boys go to the first motel in the yellow pages and meet up there if they're separated. I feel like Dean and Sam do this when they're not working cases together, just in case something happens. </p><p>Note: Stalin is not a thing in the show (the code word, not the man himself), I just made it up. </p><p>Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and leave a comment; I really adore every single one! ❤️🥰</p><p>Ta!</p><p>-SOBS</p></blockquote></div></div>
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